The most precious gift

Settled on the sofa, scrolling through my phone, I opened the Instagram app. I loved to look through others’ posts, admiring snaps of nature and posts teaching about mindfulness. I shared pictures of my hikes and family life too, as a single mum to daughter Rosie, then two. Over the years I’d managed to build up quite a following of over 6,000. When I logged in that day in March 2021 and saw a message from an old university friend, I was really pleased to hear from her. Jess Cairnes, then 35, and I hadn’t seen each other in years. At university, in between studying, we’d worked at the same place and often had a drink together after a shift. We got along well, but weren’t overly close and after university we’d lost touch. I’d gone on to work as an environmental advisor, and then had Rosie in 2019, who had been keeping me busy as a single mum.

But now, it was lovely to catch up with Jess. She explained that she and her partner, Tristan, then 32, had been trying to conceive for more than two years. Not even five rounds of IVF had delivered the good news they’d both longed for. ‘It’s heartbreaking as we both just want to be parents,’ Jess said. She explained that an egg donor was their best shot and, having seen my online following, she asked me to share her story.

My daughter has brought so much joy to my life, and everyone deserves a chance to have that. Jess had always been sweet at university and I had no doubt that she would make an excellent mum. So of course I agreed to help. ‘Let me share your story with my followers,’ I said, to which Jess was so grateful.

OFFERING HOPE

Only, over the next few days, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more I could do for her. It just didn’t feel like enough. I felt so lucky to be a mum and I couldn’t imagine how awful it was for Jess to be facing such a hard time. And then it struck me. What if I offered Jess my eggs?

Having Rosie I was sure the odds of me being able to produce viable eggs were high. And I didn’t feel any emotional attachment to my eggs – I knew if they helped conceive a baby, I wouldn’t feel any motherly connection. I wouldn’t be carrying the baby or giving birth, so the baby wouldn’t feel like mine. I thought of it like a recipe – I would just be giving Jess an ingredient to help her cook up something wonderful.

I sent Jess a message, tentatively running the idea past her. She was stunned and