Yesterday afternoon at the park, as Raphaela was swinging from the monkey bars, I saw a father with his son and my jaw dropped open. This one year old was the male version, a clone, of one of Raphaela's close friends, whose mother conceived via fertility treatments as an Israeli single mother by choice. This woman always jokes that her daughter- dark straight hair, deep olive skin and petite - looks nothing like her, with her seriously Ashkenazi freckles, light skin and curly strawberry blond hair.
Yes, they say that each person has a doppelganger somewhere on the planet or in an alternative Universe, but this felt entirely different. Obviously I did not go over to the man and ask him if he had at one time been a donor, but the question continues to haunt me: Would I recognize Raphaela's biological donor if I ever met him on the street? And what would I say to him if I dared to approach?
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