How I decided to become an egg donor

For me, becoming an egg donor for my sister was never really a question of if, but more of how and when.

My sister and I have always known that our experiences with fertility would be different. From an early age, we understood that Emily would likely face infertility, while I probably would not. I still remember the moment it became real: I had just started puberty, and our mom took both of us into a closet to talk—and cry—about how I was beginning to change while my sister, who is two years older, had not.

At one point, my mom asked if I would ever consider being a surrogate for my sister.

Looking back, it was a pretty wild

question for a 10-year-old,

but I said yes.

We had no idea what the future would hold, but something in me understood, even then, that I would help my sister become a mother someday.

Of course, I didn’t know what surrogacy or egg donation really involved at that age. I didn’t think about it again for a long time. But that early conversation made the idea familiar, almost expected, for all of us. When the time finally came to talk about egg donation seriously, it felt like a continuation of something we had always known was possible.

The conversation became more real when I was about to graduate from college and my sister was preparing for her wedding. She asked if I had a timeline in mind. I told her that, just like with traditional pregnancy, things rarely follow a strict schedule. It happens when it happens.

By the time things became official, I had graduated with my Master’s and moved across the country, which made the logistics of donation a little more complicated.

There wasn’t a single moment when I made the decision to donate. Instead, I kept making it—bit by bit. I made it every time I got new information, during every phone call about scheduling, with every test, symptom, or appointment. It was a series of choices, not just one.

That doesn’t mean it was always easy. It wasn’t. There was a lot to consider. I had to think about how my body would respond, what it meant for my own fertility, and what it might mean for my lifestyle in my early twenties. I wanted to live the way most people do at that age, but egg donation comes with limitations.

I was nervous about whether I would even be eligible, and what the answer might mean for my sister. I had to take time off from work, leave my apartment, fly across the country with my cat, and experience the worst bloating I’ve ever had.

Still, I kept choosing to move forward. I kept saying, “Yes, this is worth it.”

And I still say yes.

Being an egg donor for my sister will always be part of who I am. It will always be part of my relationship with her, her husband, and any child they might have.

When I look at this journey—at all the love, planning, and care that went into it—I can’t imagine how anyone could see it and not recognize the deep love behind it.