Whoa, Baby!

8.

Chapter Eight
Dealing With It

I stepped out of my car, the cold air nipping at my skin as I made my way toward the Xytex building. Ten years had passed since I last set foot here, a place that held a significant chapter of my life, albeit one I had hoped to close for good.

The whole idea of sperm donation had seemed simple enough back then—a drunk bet at my bachelor party. But now with the existence of Ocean through my sperm donation and all these kids that we found through the private investigator.

I started to think about the ramifications of my choices, I began to feel an urgency to ensure that my past actions wouldn't haunt me in any more ways I hadn't anticipated.

As I entered the facility, I was greeted by a sterile environment, the faint scent of antiseptic filling the air. The waiting room was quiet, the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead the only sound as I took a seat.

It felt surreal to be here again, contemplating the future of a donation I had made when I was barely an adult, caught up in the thrill of spontaneity and misguided bravado.

Tatiana had been the last known recipient of my donation. And I had to make sure she was the last person to ever use my donation.

I didn't have to wait long before a nurse called my name. She led me down a white corridor, and I felt the walls closing in, almost suffocating me with the memories of the decision I had made so long ago.

As we approached the consultation room, I reminded myself that this was about closure, about making sure my life remained my own.

Inside the room, the doctor was already waiting. He was a middle-aged man, his glasses perched on his nose as he looked over my file.

There was a professionalism to him that eased some of my tension. I took a seat across from him, and for a moment, I was lost in my thoughts, running through the what-ifs that had plagued me for years.

"Joe, thank you for coming in," he said, his voice steady and calm. "I understand you have some concerns about your previous donation."

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I just want to make sure that it's been destroyed. I don't want anyone using it, especially since Tatiana was the last one."

The doctor nodded, his expression shifting slightly as he flipped through my file. "I can assure you, Joe, that your sperm has been destroyed. We have strict protocols regarding the use and storage of donations, and after a thorough review, we found that there were issues regarding the condition of your donation."

"Conditions?" I echoed, my heart racing. "What do you mean?"

He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Since you and your cousins donated, you were not in a sober state. This raised significant concerns about the viability and ethical implications of the donation. As a result, we initiated a protocol to ensure that it would not be used ever again."

A wave of relief washed over me. Hearing the doctor's words settled something deep within me. I had made my choice, but it hadn't come without consequences, and those consequences had been taken seriously.

"So, you're saying it's completely gone? There's no way it could be used?" I pressed, needing that reassurance.

"Correct," he said, looking me in the eye. "We take these matters seriously. Your donation has been destroyed, and there are no records that would allow anyone to access it. You can be at ease knowing that it can never be used again."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," I said, genuinely grateful. "I just needed to hear that."