Well, yesterday was the momentous day that I finally chose my donor.
I chose him on the basis that he sounded the most fun, and some of them sounded frankly a bit worthy and serious, with their Christian beliefs and all that. This bloke was an atheist.
He also sounded like someone who probably enjoyed a drink. Apparently he goes to “all the donor social events.” I can’t believe they have social events for sperm donors.
OH GOD THE BABY IS GOING TO BE AN ALCOHOLIC. What with alcoholic genes on BOTH sides.
Hang on, what am I talking about? There is no baby. Twenty per cent chance of success. That means an EIGHTY PER CENT CHANCE OF FAILURE. That’s what that means. Yeah, I can do the sums. Look at me with my mathematical genius.
Anyway, he is also Polish. He’s probably hanging round the local park right now, with all the other Polish people, drinking their Polish beer from cans and talking in Polish about Poland and stuff. Probably. Not that I’m a total racist or anything, nor do I have any stereotypical ideas about Polish people WHATSOEVER.
Anyway, that’s OK. I slept with someone from Poland once. Perhaps it’s the same one.
No, it can’t be, for he had blue eyes and the donor has brown eyes.
So the baby will have brown eyes.
Shut up and pull yourself together. There is no baby. Do not under any circumstances get hopes up. There is no baby, only a gaping hole where my credit card used to be.
Hang on, aren’t these things supposed to work better when one has positive thoughts? Surely there is no scientific basis in that whatsoever and it makes no difference if I am utterly convinced that there will be a baby or of I am totally sure of the opposite, except that in the former I become crushingly disappointed and probably throw myself off the balcony in anguish.
Well, I would if it was warm enough to open the doors and going out on the balcony wasn’t going to turn me into a great big icicle.
Anyway, even if there is no baby, I went on a date on Saturday so hopefully all is not lost.