Holy Hell-Anyone want some SPERM?*meltdown alert*

*Cue Stacie's head falling off*

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!!!!

I just got around to opening the mail, and I got a letter from our old fertility specialist. It seems that, despite our request that they destroy it, they still have a specimen of donor sperm that they kept in cryo storage for us. Ugh, They sent us a hefty bill for the storage fee and asked us what we wanted done with it. AGAIN.

Mind you, we stopped trying to get pregnant almost 2 years ago. Me and my modern fucking problems. I am not in a place emotionally right now where I want to make decisions about what to do with live (albeit frozen) sperm. Seems an easy solution to just bin it, right? Yet I find myself doing a double take over it.

I had to really wrestle with the decision the last time this came up. I really thought that was over. After numerous unsuccessful tries with two different donors, a pregnancy was just not forthcoming for us. Now, I am 39 and about to enter a challenging nursing program and we are dealing with the emotional upheaval that is the situation with Little A.

Oh, bloody hell! Why is the subject of pregnancy coming up so much lately? Two of my sisters-in-law just gave birth to beautiful baby boys. The family is not hurting for grandchildren.

I might as well face it that I am going to go into menopause without ever having given birth. I thought I was okay with that. I thought I had grieved that and put it behind me with a disingenuous but cheery wave. I joked to myself about the superior muscle tone of my pelvic floor. I joked to myself that out of all my in-laws, Tony and I have the only girl in the family. My reproductive life, although not productive, is over. Taking their essentially clerical error as a sign that we should try again is a dangerous recipe for heartache that I would not be able in any way to tolerate. It ripped my heart out to do that stuff when I was really motivated to do it.

This fucking sucks. It is like a huge, cold slap in the face. I didn't need this right now. Obviously we are going to have to deal with this: fighting with them over the bill and getting that sperm chucked out. If I really have to pay the bill on that I am going to be pissed.

And yet when they do throw it out I know I will be unaccountably sad. Not that I attach any romantic ideas to it. I was always ambivalent to entering into potential parenthood in those science experiment conditions, instead of an act of love. It was painful, clinical and devoid of passion. But scant hope though it was, it was all we had in the way of options. Really, I have no business passing my DNA to anyone, anyway. Maybe it would be nice to have a kid that looked a little like me, but I never really placed importance on that in the first place.

I did not know this still had the power to cause me this much pain. It is just bad timing, really. Just a stupid mistake. Somebody stop the ride, I wanna get off.