Assisted reproductive technologies have led to new family arrangements, some of which question traditional assumptions about the relationship between biology and social roles.
I grew up with 2/3 grandparents my life. Growing up in a family where 2 women had conceived children in a rather ''non-traditional way'' in the beginning of the 21st-century. My grandparents on my biological mother's side thought they would never have grandchildren. Both of their children, including my mother, were already older than they were when they first had a child. However, I was eventually born as the first grandchild.
On my non-biological mother's side, I only had my little oma. She already had a granddaughter, my cousin and that was it. Despite the fact that I felt that having children as a female couple was looked at different or weird by my grandparents in the beginning, that was different when there was ultimately a positive response to me when I was born.
My grandparents on my father's side also became grandparents in a non-traditional way: through donor conception. My grandparents, the parents of my father and uncle never had grandchildren other than my half siblings and me. My maternal grandparents I grew up with never thought that grandchildren would arise at a later age than they had gotten children themself. My paternal grandparents didn't realize and knew they were grandparents until late, too. Only 5 years after my father became a donor he told them. In the year that the first donor child of his private donations was born. Only then did my father take the step to say: "Hey, I've been a sperm donor, you have grandchildren." Even though the situation may not have gone exactly like that, but just to show the shock factor in my grandparents to make. If you are a donor and read this, please don't tell your parents so late!
I sometimes wonder what would have happened if my father had told me from the beginning. Could they have handled it better? If all the numbers and facts had been on the table. Could they then have had a possible curiosity about us sparked up something in them? I sometimes wonder how big the brick wall is around my grandmother. That she hasn't said much and answered my questions while we were writing to each other. I think after 3 or 4 emails back and forth I stopped writing, because in the replies mail after mail still didn't come any answers to my questions. Lately I've been wondering if I want to email her back again. Because I still don't have many answers to my questions, but on the other hand I don't want to write to her if I'm not wanted. It hurts me a lot, I feel very confused. Why do I want answers from someone who doesn't want to give them? Why don't I settle for what I already know and have? Why am I a person with so many questions? Why am I mentally breaking myself with this identity question that is causing me pain?
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