I threw out a life raft into the big, vast blanket of blue but I didn’t just cross my fingers or hope and pray I’d get some bites. While drifting across uncharted waters on that buoy I paddled, I fished and I threw back a handful of swimmers that didn’t meet the legal requirements.
Sure, I was desperate to land a solid man in a bid to help me become a mother. My biological clock was literally smacking my eardrums together as every second passed and I really couldn’t think straight. Holding on tight I didn’t waver from what the bigger picture looked like. At the time it wasn’t easy as I could only see life through a foggy haze and life didn’t extend beyond that. However I knew to get through it, I had to get through it. And even though I was unravelling I knew what would get me across the line was top quality swimmers and that’s how I landed my perfect donor. I took on the role of sperm quality control inspector!
It was imperative that his sperm was well above WHO’s baseline for what they consider healthy. If he didn’t excel in this area, well, I kindly cut him loose. Seems harsh right? Well, at 41 with my eggs rapidly declining I didn’t have time to waste so needed to know if he was highly viable or not. Fortunately, I did snag an uber fertile middle-aged man. He had even assisted three other women and had his own child so I knew his stuff worked. This was important for me because – the better the sperm, the better my chances of pregnancy.