I Was A Teenage Sperm Donor
Aug. 9th, 2010 09:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Recently I wrote about the movie The Kids Are All Right and tried to argue that it was a new kind of story because it presented a new kind of character in the sperm donor. (The lesbian spouses/mothers are also arguably a new character type leading to new story types.) I was talking about the movie with my neighbors on Saturday, and E told me she knows a woman who has a child by a donor whose sperm has produced 150 children. This mother belongs to an internet community of women who have children by the donor. This modern world! And all this finally made me remember that I donated sperm in my mid-twenties. (Not as a teenager, but hey, I was a late bloomer.)
This all came about through a lesbian that Denys and I knew back then. She was the mother of a boy that Denys was a father figure for. She approached me a couple of times about lesbian friends of hers who were trying to get pregnant. Would I be willing to donate my sperm to the cause? I was told I would be one amongst other donors, so we wouldn't know who the actual father was. I agreed to it both times. The method was that L would call me and let me know she was on her way, and I would jerk off into a jar. This led to some surreal scenes when she would arrive before I had finished my work, and I would hear her upstairs chatting with Denys while I was trying to get off. Good times! Timing was of the essence, because the sperm would only stay alive for a short period in the jar. L would rush off with the jar as soon as I handed it over. I'm not sure if an actual turkey baster was involved at the other end of the process. Eventually the requests for sperm would stop, so presumably a pregnancy had been achieved.
There was a form I filled out beforehand both times, but I can't remember what all it asked. I remember for one of them I gave my name as Boreas, the Greek name for the north wind, because I had been reading Herodotus, who told a tale of people who believed that pregnancy was caused by the north wind. One of the forms asked how I would feel if I were to be contacted by my child in the future, and I wrote, "Scared." Several years later I told the story to a friend who had been adopted, and he was furious about it. He thought it was very unfair for children not to know who their biological fathers were, especially regarding possible congenital illnesses. That had never even occurred to me.
Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking, if I was thinking. That I was helping a friend in need, I guess. I've wondered periodically if I am in fact a biological father to someone (maybe two), but the idea doesn't seem very real to me. Is that strange? Can paternity really be that free of consequence? Apparently so. It's possible that I could still be contacted by somebody some day, although I'm not sure how I would be found at this point, because L died of cancer many years ago. I don't think I put my real name on those forms. It was all very homespun and ramshackle, our process. It was a process that wanted to excise the father from the picture, unlike the scenario my neighbor told me about, where the brilliant sire was a commodity mothers purchased.
This all came about through a lesbian that Denys and I knew back then. She was the mother of a boy that Denys was a father figure for. She approached me a couple of times about lesbian friends of hers who were trying to get pregnant. Would I be willing to donate my sperm to the cause? I was told I would be one amongst other donors, so we wouldn't know who the actual father was. I agreed to it both times. The method was that L would call me and let me know she was on her way, and I would jerk off into a jar. This led to some surreal scenes when she would arrive before I had finished my work, and I would hear her upstairs chatting with Denys while I was trying to get off. Good times! Timing was of the essence, because the sperm would only stay alive for a short period in the jar. L would rush off with the jar as soon as I handed it over. I'm not sure if an actual turkey baster was involved at the other end of the process. Eventually the requests for sperm would stop, so presumably a pregnancy had been achieved.
There was a form I filled out beforehand both times, but I can't remember what all it asked. I remember for one of them I gave my name as Boreas, the Greek name for the north wind, because I had been reading Herodotus, who told a tale of people who believed that pregnancy was caused by the north wind. One of the forms asked how I would feel if I were to be contacted by my child in the future, and I wrote, "Scared." Several years later I told the story to a friend who had been adopted, and he was furious about it. He thought it was very unfair for children not to know who their biological fathers were, especially regarding possible congenital illnesses. That had never even occurred to me.
Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking, if I was thinking. That I was helping a friend in need, I guess. I've wondered periodically if I am in fact a biological father to someone (maybe two), but the idea doesn't seem very real to me. Is that strange? Can paternity really be that free of consequence? Apparently so. It's possible that I could still be contacted by somebody some day, although I'm not sure how I would be found at this point, because L died of cancer many years ago. I don't think I put my real name on those forms. It was all very homespun and ramshackle, our process. It was a process that wanted to excise the father from the picture, unlike the scenario my neighbor told me about, where the brilliant sire was a commodity mothers purchased.
no subject
Date: 2010-08-09 06:00 pm (UTC)i wonder how his kids turned out.....
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Date: 2010-08-09 06:17 pm (UTC)That's the way it is in movies and books. The LLC seeks out the LLF, they meet up, INSTANT BOND. Whereas our probably-mutual adopted friend sought out his birth family, and in all cases it was a painful experience, filled with pretty bitter rejection and negation. And according to him, that was the experience of just about everyone who sought out their birth parents in spite of closed record adoptions.
Having said all that! I think records should be open, and adoptions should be open, not just because of the congenital illness, but because it makes a stronger family bond all around.
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Date: 2010-08-09 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-10 02:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-17 12:16 am (UTC)"Relatively normally" in this case means "in just as neurotic a way as if everyone lived in two-parent heterosexual families and the two parents were the birth parents as well as the parenting parents, but with more entertaining origin stories. No, not as entertaining as Spiderman. Okay, maybe they're not all that entertaining."
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Date: 2010-08-17 02:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-09 07:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-09 07:48 pm (UTC)