- My wife and I want to be parents, but we need to find a sperm donor.
- The process of finding a sperm donor is strange because we can only look at documents.
- It’s also expensive, and we have not yet gotten pregnant.
The calling to have children and be a mother came from deep in my soul — and has remained consistent over the years.
When I came out as queer, I worried about how much more difficult it would be for me to become a parent.
“Modern science is great. You’ll be able to have children,” a friend said encouragingly. I hoped they were right and now I’m learning the truth.
When my wife and I decided to become parents, we needed a sperm donor. The process has been difficult, strange, and expensive.
We chose our sperm donor based on documents
My wife and I have been in fits of laughter, browsing the sperm banks and seeing some of the photos and descriptions. Each donor provides photos (adult and baby), a personal essay, a voice recording, and a medical profile.
It’s weird. Several times, we thought we had found a donor we liked, but then we heard their voice, and it was off-putting — or they’d say their favorite animal is a small bird or ladybug.
We were looking for a donor who was more analytical or mathematical, given that we’re both creative and artistic. Physically, we wanted someone tall, with dark brown curly hair — to match the traits of my wife, given that I’d be carrying the baby.
It’s hard because the process forces us to emphasize the things that don’t matter — looks, career, genetic greatness, and astrological signs. There’s no formula. It’s all feeling.
When we finally found the donor we wanted, it felt like an instant connection with “the one.” It just felt right.
But that connection never goes beyond documents or forms. It’s a strange kind of pseudo-relationship and quasi-emotional connection.
We’re spending a lot of money
So far, we have spent thousands of dollars on this process, and we’ve had no pregnancies.
We’re also sinking our money into an unregulated industry.
Most of these sperm banks don’t adhere to the family limit number, meaning one donor can have anywhere from 10 to 150 children.
Avoiding half-sibling pods can be difficult, but right now, this expensive path seems like our only option.
My wife and I are leaning on each other for support
The process hasn’t been easy. Since my wife’s DNA won’t be involved in the making of our baby, we are navigating a strange territory. We’re trying to ensure my wife will leave her park on the child during pregnancy and early life.
“This shift in perspective does not change the facts but gives an optimistic way to see a scenario and gives back some of the control these individuals may feel they lost during the process,” Jennifer Teplin, clinical director at Manhattan Wellness, who specializes in maternal mental health and treats LGBTQ+ patients, said told me.
But my wife and I are getting through this together. Luckily, she’s always cracking jokes, bringing levity to a strange scenario.
I’ve also found peace in the fact that no one gets to choose their family. We found a donor my wife and I both felt drawn to, which I’m grateful for. In the end, if we only have one child, they will be born with a much wider support system and family beyond our home.
That’s a beautiful gift to give.
