A Conversation with Mikki Morrisette of Choicemoms.org

I'm, always on the look-out for good info to share with our Choice Moms of The NYC Gathering, or Single Mothers by Choice. In the disclosure discussions we deal with how, when and what to tell our children and the others in our lives. Here is Mikki's take on how to deal with the others  in our lives during the early years.


About filling our paperwork for schools etc....


"Most women I've heard of opt to put N/A, or leave it blank, on birth certificates. I think in the case of schools the same would apply. But it might also be important to make a note that the child is "from a Choice Mom family, meaning I opted to build our family despite the lack of a partner." 


That's basically what I did.


Similar to adoptive families, it becomes important at times for good teachers to understand that not everyone is coming from the traditional family. At least where I am, there is more open discussion about it in those early years to lay the groundwork. 


Especially when it comes to the family tree assignments that start to happen in kindergarten. It's good to walk tall and proud. :-)


One innovative solution to the family tree assignments, which happen in early school years, is an idea that my daughter and I came up with years ago. 

On our birthdays, we draw a flower and, in the roots and stems and petals, write the names of the people who are most important to us. (It's interesting to note how some vary from year to year, and who remains the same.) Rather than noticing a blank side of the family, as with traditional family trees, where "biological dad's" side cannot be filled in adequately, we focus our efforts on recognizing that there are many friends and family in our network who help us evolve as the person we are becoming."

You can read more about this, and see an example, here: http://www.choicemoms.org/blog/70/the_family_tree_assignment
Mikki Morrissette
http://www.choicemoms.org

Thanks again Mikki. So great to have you here in NYC!

A Conversation about NOT TELLING with Diane Ehrensaft 11.8.10

Talking with Diane Ehrensaft, Author of "Mommies, Daddies, Donors, Surrogates". Todays question for Diane is about  NOT TELLING.  


Sara:
The Nov 14 workshop will have a variety of options available on the topic of disclosure. With that in mind,I have wanted to support the people who are in what we call "the no-tell camp". Not with the objective to change anyones mind about this, but rather to help them to process whatever feelings go along with parenting after donor conception and surrogacy. 

So Diane,can you start off with anything you think might be helpful for
those on the other side of the disclosure discussion?


Diane:
Okay, here are some thoughts about emotional experiences for parents who have decided not tell their children: 

There is no boiler plate solution to sharing or not sharing with your children the facts of their conception, and each parent or set of parents will make their own choices about that, matching their family needs and personal beliefs. 


For those of you who decide not to tell, a whole host of feelings may come up that are good to be prepared for. You may feel caught in the vice created by the tensions between two opposing groups: those who feel there is no reason for a child to know (this being the common stance of the medical field over the years) vs. those who feel you are doing a disservice to your child, both emotionally and medically (for those who use donors), by not telling them the real story of their conception. 


Your job, of course, will be to hold to your own personal decision regarding your child while giving yourself room to explore all the reasons you made that decision. Some parents who don't tell worry that they will be "outed"--that somehow their child will find out from another source and be furious at them, even reject them. Some of you in the not telling camp may hold a belief that genetics are really not that important and wonder why others make such a big deal of it. Indeed, there are many in other countries who have just that thought about we Americans, and feel strongly that once the egg and sperm come together, all that matters is that a baby is made who is yours for the rest of your lives, and that it is presumptuous to assert that the children will ever even care about it at all. You may feel relieved that you don't have anything that will get in the way of the love between you and your child, which is all that all of us would ever want in our bonds to our children. You may feel relieved that your child is protected from potential harm if you live in a community or within an extended family which would not take kindly to a child conceived in these "new-fangled" ways.


If there are two parents, and you are the non-genetic parent, not telling makes it so much easier to create an even playing field between you and your partner, so that there is no worry about your child seeing you partner as the more "real" parent. Just like people who have chosen to tell, you may wonder at times if you have made the right decision to not tell, and indeed there are some people whose feelings change over time and then decide at a later date that they would like to tell their children. Parenthood is a life long process with twists and turns along the way, so what we know now as a parent of an infant may be so different from what we come to know later as a parent of a teenager. The felt advantage of deciding not to tell early in your child's life is that it is a decision you can definitely change later, whereas if you make an early decision to tell your child about his or her origins and then regret it , there is absolutely no way to undo that decision once the cat is out of the bag. 


Whatever the range of your feelings, the most important thing is that you feel supported for the way you have chosen to build your family, including the decision not to tell, for in the larger scheme of things, we should remember that we are all family.


Sara:Diane, thanks as always. 

My just right donor, by L

It was a warm day forDecember, and my husband and I were on our way to make a very importantchoice. We were on our way toreview potential donors with our clinic and expected to choose one during thistrip.


A little background: we were cycling at an out-of-town clinic about 200 miles from our home for three reasons: 1) it was less expensive; 2) we reallyliked the doctor and one of my closest friends had a personal friendship with him and also used him for her fertility problems; and 3) this clinic allowedyou to choose your donor from a book of potential clinic donors. That was very different than the clinics here in New York, who picked your donor for you. And that was definitely appealing to us, and was one of the major reasons we decided to cycle out of town.


We had decided not to usean agency donor, because I felt like I could find someone appealing and didn’tfeel strongly that I needed to find the “perfect” donor.


I knew one thing: I didn’t want to meet my donor or seean adult picture of her. I hopedto have children that were genetically related to her; and when I looked atthem, lovingly, as they grew, changed and developed, children I consider mychildren solely (okay, and my husband’s too) despite the gene pool, I didn’twant to see someone else, someone who essentially was disconnected from us andour lives completely, looking back at me.


So here we are, on afour-hour car ride, with an appointment to look at “the book.” My husband and I share ourthoughts: what should we lookfor? What are the most importantattributes of this woman, who was going to perhaps give us the most significant thing we ever received?


First, we focused onlooks. And we agreed she didn’tneed to look like me, but the main things, like coloring, etc. needed to besimilar to mine so that our child, or children, would, to the casual observer,look like they could be mine.

Then, we focused on health. That, we agreed, was non-negotiable. Then,intelligence. We agreed she neededto be a college student or a college graduate, with a job that indicated she was above average in IQ. Andage. I don’t remember exactly what we determined, but something around 24-25 – not too young, not tooold. And a “proven” donor would be a bonus.


And that, we agreed, were the main factors. We pictured a young career woman, on her way to a life of “having it all.”


We get into town, and, thenext day, we are given the “Caucasian” book. There were around 25 or 30 profiles in the book. They told us to review it and that wecould select up to 3 proflies to hold for 24 hours. Thereafter, we could either select one, or select none and then return in a few weeks to see any new potential donors.


We were sent to a room,alone, with this thick blue binder. Each profile was 14 pages, hand written, and asked all sorts of factualquestions about the donor, her life, health, family, family health history,pregnancy and fertility history, and the like. There were also, on the last page, short essays. It was a lot of information, on the onehand, but so little, too.


We went through the bookand flagged all the college grads and a few college students. One by one, they dropped off. Too many casual sexual encounters. Questionable family healthhistories. Some women whosemotivations seemed less than ideal to us. Women who didn’t seem to have the time or interest to fill out the 14pages. After going through thewhole book, we had a few maybes. But no one that felt right.


A second glance through the binder. One profile caught my eye.I shared it with my husband. Awoman, 28 years old, a mother of two. Last job was in a pizza shop. Education stopped after high school. We pull it out. Read it once, twice. So,she didn’t go to college. So, shewas 28 years old. Not what wethought we were looking for. But the answers to her essay questions were clear and well thought out. She took pride in what she wrote and expressed herself well. No, notwhat we were looking for. Butthere was something about her. We put her in the maybe pile.

That night, we stayed at my friend’s house. I asked her tolook at the three profiles we had brought with us. Without a word, she read the three, and handed me one,saying…I like her. Pizzawoman, we called her that night, until she became “our donor” who she is tothis day.


What did we like? Her maturity. Her appreciation for being a parent. Her earnestness, and sincerity. She seemed nice, real, solid. Not perfect, but very human. And, for some reason, kind and giving.

Today, as the parents of two children she helped us conceive, I am so thrilled with our choice. Someday, if my kids ask my why we picked her, I have reasons I can explain. And if we ever have the opportunity to meet her, I think I will like her. And I know that I will have nothing but gratitude for the gift she gave us.