I am not anonymous. I know who I am: I am my Caucasian mother’s stories of how much she has loved mothering; I am my Chinese father’s love for music and good deals; I am all the injury, heartbreak and observed suffering I’ve absorbed into my body, if not my genes, for the past 32 years. I am an egg donor, and my role in the lives of the couples I donate to ends the moment my last ova hits the aspirator.
Egg Donations: A Honolulu Womans Story
