Tag Archives: lesbian mothers

Different Donors

My sons have two different donors.  Different donors, different biological mothers.  In effect, they have no biological connection.

They are brothers, for sure.  Cakie is learning everything he needs to know about how to be a child from his willing teacher, Cake.  I don’t need to argue here at all about the fact that they are brothers.  They are being raised by the same two parents in the same way in the same house.

One of them looks a little like Obama.  The other resembles Desi Arnaz.  One is a tall skinny muscular reed.  The other is a truck.  Despite my efforts in selecting a second donor, the boys do not look alike at all.  One might argue that many biological siblings do not look alike.  True.  They do act alike in many ways.  They have the same very very high energy level.  They both love to play outside. Trucker is far more into trucks and balls than Cake ever was.  Cake likes music and cooking and superheros.

I wonder what will happen when they learn that they have different donors?  I worry that it might cheapen their bond.  It may make them angry at us.  As though we carried on some type of charade.  Or that someone else will discredit their relationship as siblings.  I worry, too, what will happen if either one tries to find their donor.  Already, Cake has two donor siblings on the registry.  Little girls.  I haven’t paid the fee, so I have not contacted the parents yet.  But I know they are there.  And if Cake wants to find his donor and he cannot, I can offer up these half-sisters.  There are no siblings on the registry for Truck.  Could I pay the fee and put up a profile?  Yes.  Maybe that might make one come out of the woodwork.  Maybe not.  What if one of them has a donor who is willing to meet them or even have a relationship once they turn 18?  While the other has a donor who has passed away, or worse, doesn’t even want to talk to him? I don’t worry about these things constantly or anything.  They just, every once in a while, pop into my head.

When Cakie was conceived, there were no open donors.  It wasn’t a thing the sperm banks had convinced anyone to do yet.  So when it was time to choose a benefactor for Trucker’s egg, I also chose a closed donor.  It did it on purpose.  I signed a paper stating that I would not look for the donor.  I did this knowing that the baby didn’t sign anything.  And if either of them want to look, they will have my blessing.  And if I happen to stumble across a photo of a man that is his race, his height, his weight, his age and has long curling eyelashes, while I’m randomly trolling California acting agency websites for no particular reason, so be it.

My biggest goal is to handle all of this with grace.  I want to teach my kids that our family is one made from love.  Love that is stronger than a spiral helix.  It is like a triple-mega spiral helix made out of steel.  Yeah.  That sounds good.

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Filed under family, my second son, sperm shopping

The Donor Mark

My son has the likes-to-watch-sports gene.  He did not get this from me.

I don’t plan to point things like this out to my kids.  There’s this unspoken fear of the moment when we will need to address the fact of the donors in our kids lives.  There is also this urge to pretend since we don’t know who the donors are, that we can make them go away.  Part of me wants my honey and I to be the only important people in the creation of our kids.

The other part of me knows that the donors are important.  Not only are they important, but I feel like even though I don’t know their names or their adult faces, I feel like we live with them.  We know them better than we know our good friends.  I’m so glad for them.  I’m so glad for whatever circumstances lead to them walking in to the cryobank, filling out all of those forms, walking uncomfortably into a little room and producing for us the ingredient that would eventually become our sons.  I am confident that wherever he is, Trucker’s donor is either thinking about throwing or actually throwing a ball.  Cakie’s donor is charming someone at this very moment.  I’m sure of it.

The discomfort comes from knowing that the donors are a question mark.  Will the boys be driven to try to identify them?  If they do find them, will these men disappoint my sons?  Since I have two different donors, will the boys have two uncomfortably different experiences surrounding their donors?  I am sure that they will want to know them, even if we down-play their role.  Once they take a biology class and see the fruit flies and their eye colors,  once they read a study on identical twins, or venture into my grandfather’s meticulously researched geneology of his side of my family, they will want to know.

I know this.  But I wish I could take that donor question mark and stretch it straight into an exclamation point.  A sure statement, showing a strong emotion.

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Filed under family, IUI, LGBT, my second son, my son, sperm shopping, Trucker