Source: Harper’s Bazaar
Where did your son get those beautiful, inky-black eyes?” asked my new friend Janet, a mom from my son’s preschool class.
“I don’t know, actually,” I said with practiced nonchalance. “We don’t share any genes. I used an egg donor.”
Janet looked away from me, gazing at the ground as she absorbed this information, before stammering, “Oh, I didn’t realize that.”
In the awkward silence that followed, I could practically hear the questions spinning in her brain. This has happened countless times since my son’s birth four years ago. People teetering on the brink, wondering if it’s okay to ask questions or if they should pretend I hadn’t just revealed a deep personal truth: I’m infertile; I used an egg donor.
