Sperm donors aren’t dads.
“They’re donors,” says my counsellor. “They’re not Dads. Now, your kid may have a dad, someone whom you meet, and who becomes a parent. That may happen. But the donor is the donor.”
My counsellor is emphatic.
And yet, how many of my friends have said, “why not go to a bar and get someone to knock you up? For the price of a gin and tonic, you could be done with this!”
In fact, two different men (hearing of my situation) have explicitly come forward and offered to be my sperm donor. You know….the “old fashioned way.”
They want legacy, they want a child, and they’re willing to give me their vital fluids to make it happen. They’re also attractive, successful, and seem kind. Now, they may also just want to get in my pants, but I do have a deep feeling that the sex perk is secondary to their biological urge to leave an heir.
“I could help out, you know, I’d like that, when you needed it,” one says. “I’ll sign whatever you want, I don’t need legal rights.”
Now, when you’re staring down the barrel of single mom-dom, who wouldn’t want a benevolent extra support person in the wings to swoop in for some occasional babysitting or camping trips? The men and I travel down this road. We talk it out. The details, however, are fuzzy. Would they give financial support? Would I even want them to? And if they didn’t, why do they get a legacy while I’m them one doing all the heavy lifting? Would we tell the kid?
When artificial insertion costs upward of $1500 per pop, getting pregnant the old-fashioned option seems tempting.
But the consequences loom.
The baby daddy could decide all of a sudden that they want partial (or full) custody of the kid. While men may seem less prone to baby fever than women, expectations and desires can radically change once a baby is born. A disinterested donor may suddenly feel the roar of paternal duty and, whamo, my cheaper-than-the-medical-turkey-baster-option has now created an unexpected adversary in a custody battle.
Even without a worse case scenario, having an in-person donor makes the “dad” aspect real. With a medical sperm donor, they feel like a “donor” – not a dad. I bought some genetic material, got is shoved up my cervix…it’s no big deal. It’s not emotional. I’m the mom, I’m the parent, I’m the family. The sperm was the tool for the job.
But getting pregnant from a real live person means that I know the father. The sperm is connected to a face, to a body, and to an intimate moment. I know who he is. The donor – in my mind – is the “dad.”
When I spoke to these men and considered the “au naturel” option, I suddenly realized that I’m the lucky one. Despite all my fear and drama, I actually have it easier. After all, finding a surrogate woman to bear your baby is a lot harder then paying a fee for a sample in a cup.
I think of my gay friends – men and women – who are on the family path, searching for options. I think of the lonely bachelors out there who always wanted a family, and find themselves single and without the resources to pay a surrogate to carry their child to term. I realize that I’m lucky to even have a choice.
I tell my therapist,”Men have offered to be my sperm baby daddies… but, it seems too complicated.”
She looks me straight in the eyes, “Rachel, I think you have good instincts.”
