How I became an egg donor

It wasn't until two years after I graduated that I saw another egg donor ad, on craigslist, while looking for an apartment. This time, I had just moved to Chicago for a job. This time, home was much further away, and considerably longer ago. It wasn't that I had a particular urge to pass on my genes, or to help out a childless couple. More than anything, I felt adventurous. I had always taken an interest in medicine, wasn't afraid of medical procedures, and figured that trying this out would be a good way to do something nice for other people while and earning a bit of cash on the side and having an interesting time.

The anonymity of a big city where, at the time, I did not have as much as an acquaintance, helped me muster up the courage necessary to click that "send button" and submit that information form to the donor agency, along with a few pictures. It read something like this:

Age: 24

Education: Ivy League graduate

Height: 5-9

Weight: 135

Medical history: virtually none.

Smoking: never

30 pages of paperwork, an in-person interview, and a personality test later, I was matched with a couple who liked my profile. Between the day I submitted my profile and the moment I learned I had been "matched," less than 10 days had passed.

I didn't expect things to move so fast but thought, let's do it. I was too excited and scared to tell anyone.

Two years and three donations later, I essentially still haven't told anyone.

You sold our grandchild...?

I first came across an egg donor ad in my school's campus paper several years back, as an undergraduate. The ad read, "Loving childless couple seeking Ivy League-educated egg donor. Compensation $15,000." Or maybe it was $25,000. Some physical criteria were listed, a minimum SAT score perhaps. I remember being vaguely intrigued but mostly creeped out, thinking, who would do this? How could you go through life knowing that you have genetically related offspring out there? Beyond that, I was convinced that my otherwise liberal parents would disown me....for selling their grandchildren....as they would surely see this. I tossed the ad and thought nothing more of it.

Not in a million years did I think that I would indeed donate my eggs - not once, but several times - and that it would become a major, adventurous, and mostly happy part of my life. On some days, I am still surprised that I am doing this.