I’ve always wanted to write a book on my life as I’ve always felt it’s pretty unique. So, as a story needs a beginning, I present to you, dear reader, the preface to me, the “hook” to suck you in and wanting to read more. This story begins with a few paragraphs about being a Donor Conceived Person – because that’s who I am – it’s about how my biological father donated sperm in a clinic and how that ended up producing me.
Although I’ve known since the age of 15/16 about my origins, this particular aspect of my life journey only really began in the 2nd half 2020. That’s when I registered with the Donor Conceived Register and – most importantly – it’s when I conducted a commercial DNA test and finally identified my biological father.
Father – it’s a funny word for me; prior to 1994 it was a word used exclusively to refer to my Dad (who sadly passed just 6 years prior) but now it’s a word which describes…someone I simply don’t know. And from correspondence to date it is very likely to remain that way for the remainder of my life. Father, Dad, A Parent: what word best describes my biological…father? Maybe I should call him “my sperm donor”?
Being donor conceived has meant facing a reality whereby my parents (and every other donor conceived persons parents’) were simply told to ignore ever happened, to always remain secret, and to never reveal ANY of the details about how we were conceived to anyone. Even to this day the very detail of how DC people are concepted is looked upon in a rather unacceptable way and that’s quite understandable: our fathers were (are) paid money to present a nurse with sperm in a beaker. There’s no getting around that rather unsightly fact. Whilst the act could be considered biological (heck, getting paid to do what most men do as often as they can – sign me up!) but it’s an act totally devoid of any emotional connection, with no feeling and certainly zero consequences.
[side note: women can be donors as well but (and I’m guessing here) it’s a much more invasive process and probably fair to say a much more heroic thing to do, purely because of the process of what you have to go through. Please don’t be offended if you’re reading this as a female donor and feel that the descriptions I used sound like you’ve been cheapened and/or on the receiving end of a crass joke – they’re purely aimed at the male-side of the donor system]
Donor conceived people share many of the same emotions and feelings as adoptees but whereas adoption stories are socially accepted and are surrounded with emotional support (a hard-won battle for those years back to courageously go through), DC people have to hide and consider the feelings of EVERYONE ELSE around them and are constantly told (not asked) not to bring the subject up or reveal details for fear of upsetting others. It’s like everyone else are Gatekeeping DC people and silencing their natural need for answers, recognition and a voice.
For a good example of Gatekeeping, let’s come back and expand on the zero-consequences of the actions donors were paid to take: firstly, discovering you’re a DC person is difficult to comes to terms with, it has a direct impact on your immediate family members – your parents having to face the reality that you now know that one of them is not a DNA match. What about siblings? Is that why my sister doesn’t look me? What do you mean I can’t tell my sister about my origins? Imagine how upset she would be?! I’m sorry but where do I and my feelings come into this? What about me? I’m feeling quite upset about this and now you’re shutting me down from talking about it – with anyone? Now imagine the conversations when the extended family find out: would my uncle or aunt start behaving differently towards me? Maybe they already know – it might explain a few things.
Fast-forward in time a little bit (or a lot) and you identify your biological parent (if you’re lucky) and discover he’s got his own family now. Turns out they don’t want to know you and demand that you don’t write again and to never inform any of their family members of what they did and certainly DO NOT inform them that you exist – EVER! “I don’t want my happy family unit being destroyed” is the curt and zero-consequence response. Well, that’s alright then, my half brother and sisters – who call you Dad – can live happily ignorant to the fact that we share 50% of our DNA. Wanking into a beaker for £25 a go really did absolve you of all responsibility for that decision.
It’s probably why a lot of DC people typically feel isolated and alone. Need counselling? Pretty sure no counsellor is going to have had any experience with a DC person before, so good luck with that! Why should we – as DC people – have to hide away in a hidden Facebook group in fear of upsetting others around us, always fearful of being outed to our close friends and relatives?
Donors – having been promised anonymity for life – were never told one rather important thing: Your DNA is not anonymous. We are all here, we exist and we want recognition and acknowledgement of that very simple fact.
I’m not looking for a Dad. I’ve done pretty well in life and I don’t really need someone to guide me on the remainder of my journey. But, I am looking at you knowing you look like me and maybe….just maybe…I’m just a little bit like you – and that’s the thing all us DC people (just as adoptees do) would like to find out – how much of my story overlaps with yours. I just want to get to know you; it’s really that simple; there’s really not that much more to it.