What next?

If I have to do this alone then so be it.

I reserved a place at a Harley Street clinic specialising in Sperm Donation, amusingly called the Inseminar, oh very witty! It was 2 weeks ago. A week after I had returned from my disastrous escapade in the Lake District with the infamous Mac. I was apprehensive but a friend of mine decided that she would come too. Her mother (a respected doctor in her own right) had listened carefully to Ellen's explanation of what she was planning and was very "gung ho" with the idea. Ellen is one of six children, all very successful doctors, lawyers, teachers and property developers. Her mother said it would be such a waste for Ellen not to have a child because her genes were so incredible. I love that!

My mother, on the other hand, sat on my bed, one hour before the Inseminar, looking incredulous at the brochure I had given her to read. "So darling, you won't know the father of the child?" "No, mummy, thats the whole point. Its donor sperm". She read for another 5 minutes and sighed. "Well, what do you think? You know I've always wanted a child and I just can't wait for my perfect soulmate to come along. I have waited 10 years for him and it simply hasn't happened. I'm 41 and want a child and so I think this maybe the only way that I can go. Don't you think its worth at least giving it a try? And then, if it doesn't work, well at least I know I've done all I can and can then move on and accept that maybe I will be childless". My mother sighed again. "Did you not think I'd have children mummy. Were you not worried that I was leaving it a bit late?"

My mother had previously (after many tearful conversations about how I was being left behind by all my friends having babies) told me not to worry. That I had many female relatives that had children late in life and that I would be fine. Now, however, she looked at me with the resigned look of having talked about this too many times. "Darling, to be honest I always thought you would marry someone with children. Maybe someone divorced or widowed. I didn't think you would ever have children of your own." I was utterly gobsmacked. "What? You've never said that to me before, what do you mean?" "I just never thought you would have children of your own, I've felt that for the last few years." I started to cry. "But, Mummy, you've always told me how lucky I was to have good genes and stuff and that I would still be able to have children." "I know darling, and I said that so you wouldn't get upset". I sat down and sobbed. "Why would you say that? You know I have always wanted a baby and now you're saying you never thought I would. Oh my god. Well, thats just great." I didn't look at her and she just continued reading the brochure. "I'm sorrry darling but I just want you to be happy and I think you should just accept that you won't have children and move on." "No! I think at least it's worth me trying. Trying for a baby, don't you think it's worth trying at least and then if it doesn't work or if the doctors examine me and say it's impossible, then at least I'll know for sure?" I exclaimed. "I don't know darling but you know I just want you to be happy and I think this will be all too much."

We said no more and my mother closed the brochure. I dropped her at the train station and drove to Harley Street. Once inside the clinic, I was greeted by a cheerful nurse who ushered me into the waiting room. "Are you here for the Inseminar? Are you on your own?" "Yes" I said. I walked into the warm, yellow room and looked around. There were about 20 or so women, some, obviously in couples, others (looking awkward) alone. My friend Ellen had texted saying she would be late so I said I would save her a place. The Inseminar began. We were all given a friendly and very informative Powerpoint presentation about the scientific ways of conceiving without a man. Natural cycle sperm donation pregnancies, hormone aided and of course, full sperm donor IVF assisted pregnancies. The costs were glossed over. Ellen arrived, red faced and apologetic and took a seat beside me (at the back of the room). Some of the couples looked around and smiled as she gave me a big hug and a kiss. Did they think we were a couple? At the end of the presentation, questions were encouraged. Between Ellen and myself, we probably took up the next 10 minutes of the nurses time.

So how many donors were at the clinic?
How many donors might match our specific requests?

You are given the height, weight, eye colour, skin colour and educational background of your donor. They have already been checked for any sort of disease, hereditary or otherwise. There are no photos. Ellen asked about foreign donors and the nurse sighed. Obviously they want you to buy UK sperm, from them. She admitted that the ESB (European sperm bank) had on their books, thousands more donors. The sperm was cheaper to buy and you could see much more information about them. They have baby photos of themselves and a voice recording of them now. Wow, really? There is much more information about their family and background. The nurse answered some more questions.

If you have a child by one donor, can you have a second child by the same one?
Only if you reserve the sperm. Apparently, any one sperm donor can only have 10 children. It means you aren't going to have a child with hundreds of siblings. Well, thats good. But it means you really have to think ahead. You have to pre-buy your sperm to make sure no one else uses it!! All just a bit odd.

Can you bring someone with you to the insemination? (Ellen asked that?)

"We encourage bringing a loved one with you to all your meetings" the nurse says. Ellen leans over and whispers "I'll be bringing my cat then!" We giggled and a girl in front turned around and said "and my dog!!". It began to feel quite nice, sitting in this friendly room in such bizarre circumstances but knowing you are all there for the same reason. Many single women, in their late 30's early 40's would love to have a child. Whether they have been unlucky in love and haven't found the right one (Ellen and I) to women who's partner is infertile (the girl in front of us) to a lesbian couple wanting a family (about 10 couples around the room). Ellen and I kept asking questions and it was all quite fascinating really. Then a woman came in and was introduced as the financial director.. uh oh, here we go.

The cost of having one treatment.... the initital consultation, tests and blood work, cycle observation, sperm and finally insemination, costs roughly £2,500. For one shot!! And that is the basic treatment. Any additional things like hormone treatment, sperm storage etc cost more. Then, of course, if you aren't able to do things naturally you have to add IVF on top of all that. They do an offer of Buy one get one free for the IVF... how generous!! If your IVF fails twice and you are crying for weeks on end and you have the house re-mortgaged twice, at least you get another try for free! Cynical moi?

So now I need a serious think. In order to even try one go, naturally (meaning no extra costs) I have to find £2,500. Oh and I almost forgot to say... the success rate for over 40's is only 5%. 5%!!!!!!!!!! Thats so shockingly bad isn't it. But heh, as my sister pointed out, what price can you put on a baby? I might have to try several time, even 2o times. Then I will be bankrupt, fat as all hell (because by that stage my body will have had hormone injections up the cazoo) and miserable. To even get the initial money I am having to release equity on my flat... if they agree to it. My credit rating isn't fabulous due to having no work for the month of April and all my creditors gasping simultaneously! We will see!!