I'm going to be a daddy... Maybe... if I so desire... I'M SO CONFUSED!

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Okay, this isn’t so mundane I suppose (at least not to me).

For those who haven’t read my postings, most (including recipes) begin with the fact that

I have been asked for some unusual favors as well as the usual majors (help moving, help with writing papers, proofreading, help stealing an epileptic parrot from its abusive pothead owners in the dead of night, etc.) but tonight, as you may infer from the title, I was asked for my sperm. The requestors: a lesbian couple I work with, both of whom are exceptionally intelligent and who I actually think would be great parents.

My immediate response was to the effect of “I can’t tell you how flattered I am. No.” I would never want to be the father of a baby to whom I couldn’t be… well… a father, which is odd, because frankly I never felt an overpowering desire to be a father at all. I don’t particularly like or dislike children but I certainly wouldn’t want to be the primary caregiver of one.

This is where the Tevyean Transmogrification comes in (cue: Anatevka soliloquy lighting):

On the other hand, having a baby with two lesbians would be the best of both worlds: I would have a child, and I could have a relationship with it, but I wouldn’t really have to stay up at night when it had a cold or sit through the rehearsals for the child playing Little Miss Muffett in the Kindergarden play

On the other hand, we all three live in the Deep South, where there is deep seated institutional homophobia and same sex parents can’t adopt. What would happen if “The Mommies” split up and there was a nasty custody battle and my flesh and blood was at the forefront? And how will it be knowing that a little child is being picked at unmercifully by other children and sneered at by bigoted parents and stupid teachers and I am in part to blame?

On the other hand, bring on the childrearing montage: me tossing the baby into the air, me teaching a little towhead to ride a bicycle (the towhead need not know that I just spent $1,000 from his college fund to get a personal trainer to teach me how to ride a bicycle, and I’ll never be able to wiggle my toes again, but to the child I nevertheless am a small g god), the chance to know that in my old age I may have the wonderful consolation of grandchildren and somebody from the next generation who carries my heritage and loves me deeply

On the other other hand, my baby- flesh of flesh and bone of my bone- would be conceived during five minutes I spent in a restroom watching EASTERN EURO BUTTBOYS XII, which would surely be a sign that prophecies would be fulfilled and I would have unleashed the Terror of Abaddon Daycare Center.

On the other other other hand, I could die tomorrow and leave nothing substantive behind, but this could mean a vital part of me will always be here, winning Nobel prizes and meeting the lesbians who will help him or her perpetuate the species.

On the other other other other hand, I’ve known many parents whose old age was spent working because of horrible children who kept them broke and embarassed, or the child could be born with special needs and I would feel terrible guilt as well as the ethical need to provide support for a child I never anticipated to begin with, or the child may be a Baptist who ends up telling me and The Mommies we’re all going to hell.

On the other other other other other hand, this could make another couple sooo happy, and they’d be great parents, and I would only need to have as much relationship with the child as I desire to.

On the other other other other other other hand, eeewww.

I’m pretty sure my final word on the subject will be a respectful and appreciative no, but this is… heavy. Has any other male Doper ever been asked this “favor”?

2

Well, I’m straight. And female. And never been asked for this favor. So, basically, the complete opposite of you.

But I’m right there with you. If someone asked me to carry their kid for 9 months, I’d have to say no. And then it’s not even my flesh and blood. I just know I could not be pregnant for 9 months and then not have someone to show for it at the end.

3

You really just need to think this one out on your own (long and hard). A professor I worked with in New Orleans was gay. One day, he came in announced that he was a father to everyone’s surprise. He and his partner teamed up with a lesbian couple, inseminated one of them, and here came a baby. The baby has four gay parents but they were all doing great the last I heard.

If you decide to do it, you probably want to find out what legal protections and rights you may have. You may be named as the biological father on the birth certificate and then be asked to waive those rights so that the other woman can adopt. I am not really sure how that works. This stuff can get messy if someone decides to change the rules mid-stream. For instance, the couple could break up before the baby is born and you are left as the other parent who has to pay child support.

4

I’d do it in a second. (Well, if I had sperm!) One line stands out in your post for me, and it’s the only line that matters: “On the other other other other other hand, this could make another couple sooo happy, and they’d be great parents, and I would only need to have as much relationship with the child as I desire to.”

You can drive yourself crazy with all your hands, but in the end, this kid would have a huge head start in the game of life merely having two parents who really, really want it and have planned and wished and prayed for it. I don’t think even a simple majority of people can say that.

YMMV, of course.

5

I have no idea what to tell you about your dilemma, but I just had to stop in to mention how completely and insanely amusing the image of a gay Tevye with a southern accent contemplating inseminating two women really is to me. I love it, and I think someone should expand on this to include the rest of the residents of Anatevka somehow.

And with that, you definitely have no other hands, although maybe you could work in the dream sequence with Fruma Sara and Tseitel. Perhaps Fruma Sara will have some inspirations for you. ;j

6

<eerie voice>
If Sampiro impregnates Lesbian #1…
She’ll carry it NIIINE months!
And when nine months are up
she’ll give birth to a child…
aaaaand…

CRYING little Tzeitel! POOPING little Tzeitel! PEEING little Tzeitel!
This is my birthday present if he impregnates Lezzy 1!!!

7

No direct advice Sampiro, but I did want to say that I deeply admire the seriousness and depth of thought you’re giving to the matter.

Oh, and you’ll be relieved to know that Terror of Abaddon Daycare Center[sup]TM[/sup] is already up and running, in about ten thousand locations around the world… I mean, I like kids a lot, but some of them need a spiked collar and a chain lead. :eek: So, no guilt on that front, if you go ahead. :smiley:

.

8

And what happens if both mothers die? Would that leave you as the sole parent?

9

P.S. I can see why they asked you, though—you’re hot!

10

Oh you gwine away from heah, Miz Daisy… I look like “Melvin: the Burl Ives Experience”, but thanks.

It mostly boils down to my gut reaction (even though I’m not a person who believes gut reactions are necessarily more valid). The knowledge that there is a child out there who has half my genes would drive me nuts and I would probably want to have more than an avuncular relationship (and if there’s one thing Alabama has enough of already it’s uncles who are also really the daddy). As flattered as I am, I vote “sperm bank”.

11

Whoa. Put this together with the European Buttboys, and you get quite the mental image.

12

Have you ever thought about writing to David Crosby for advice…?

13

An ex-boyfriend of mine was asked to be the sperm donor for a lesbian couple, and he said no for the exact same reason it looks like you are learning towards - the idea of having a kid around that was his, but not his (essentially) would have made him nuts.

14

There were enough “on the other hand” comments in his post without you helping him Eve :slight_smile:
I have nothing to offer in terms of advice but it is good to see you really taking the time to think about it. After all, there a real life person at stake.

15

I can see why they asked you. You’re adorable, you’ve got talent and you’re funny. Definitely DNA worth passing on.

I think you’re smart … and mature … to say no, though.

16

Let me first say that may be the single greatest OP the Doper has ever seen. My jaw drops in astonishment.

Bear in mind I’d no idea you were gay until I train-wrecked on the Euro-Buttboys shoals.

Me? I’d do it. But I’m a risk taker that way. It’s true that you’ll be exposed (so to speak) to some potential downstream liability. But it’s only potential. And each of us takes risks every time we walk down the street, eat a cookie, fall in love…

The risks are what makes like fun.

17

We try to keep a danger buoy afloat near there, but someone keeps coming along when we’re not looking and licking off all the ALARM ORANGE latex.

18

Which is, of course, what the couple is asking him to do.

No one’s ever asked me and no one ever will. Which is fine with me, as I dislike children intensely and think everyone should stop having them for about twenty years. I would say no in a heartbeat and given my “stop having children for a generation” stance would encourage everyone else to say no as well, but ultimately it isn’t my or anyone else’s business. I strongly second the notion of, before agreeing to anything, the three of you sitting down with an attorney who knows his or her way around situations like this so that everyone knows what is expected and/or legally required of everyone else.

And if you decide to donate, let me know if you’d like some assistance with the, er, production. I’m always willing to lend you a hand. Woof!

19

Just wanted to add another voice saying good for you, Sampiro, for putting so much thought into the decision and taking it responsibly.

You’re right when you say it’d be a great “gift” to the couple and would make them very happy (and as is evidenced by the Doper response whenever you post a picture, there are a lot of people who’d be happy to have your genes), but it’s not something you enter lightly. It’d be unfair to you to know that you have a child out there who’s not entirely “yours.”

And in this case your gut reaction is the valid one – if your first reaction was how it would make you feel, then that’s what you’d be feeling every day for the next 20 or so years. They’ll have other options, so make sure you’re only doing something you’re comfortable with.

20

Thanks all around for words of support and reassurance.

Twenty years ago I had a dog named Ashley- she was beautiful, a white-eyed Siberian Husky given to my family when she was about 2 years old by some friends when they moved into a house without a fenced yard. She was a very sweet dog (though not too bright and more than a little sluttish- she wanted to be with the boys at least as much as they wanted to be with her when she was in season the one evidence of genius she ever displayed was escaping from pens and chain to go get impregnated by mongrels) and I grew super fond of her; She was just really sweet, a great mother to her pups, to other dog’s pups, to a baby goat she kidnapped from our barn, to the occasional kitten, etc., a great hunter and watchdog, etc… However, she was also a dog whose ancestors had been bred for thousands of years to adopt to a freezing climate and this was rural Alabama where temperatures of over 100 degrees at 100% humidity are not uncommon for extended periods of time and even with ample water and letting her into the air conditioned house (to the major annoyance of the pampered housedogs) she was just absolutely miserable for several months per year. I ended up giving her to my cousin, a dog lover herself with a travelling menagerie of critters of her own, when she (the cousin) moved to New Hampshire where summer heat isn’t as longlasting and she could have the snow to play in.
Ashley was happy up there and at any time we had between half-a-dozen and a dozen other dogs in those days, but I missed her constantly. The other dogs weren’t as gentle or weren’t as affectionate or just generally weren’t Ashley. This was before the Sprint & Cell Phone revolution when long distance was a lot more expensive and at a time when spare money was pretty scant, but I found any excuse I could to call New Hampshire, always on some pretext or other and willing to make small talk about “How’s your husband? How’s work? How are the kids? Did you read that new Mary Stewart? yada yada” before getting to the real point: How’s Ashley? Is she in the room with you? Put the phone up to her ear… HEY BABY-LADY! … send me a picture of her… when are you coming down again? Could you bring her with you?" etc. etc…

It was a happy ending of sorts: Ashley had a long happy life and I did get to see her again a couple of times, but I never stopped missing her because she’d been my dog and one I particularly liked. There’s a story about a Pekingese I had to give up custody of that was also traumatic but it’s a buzzkill so I won’t go into it. It was actually years before I could get another dog after these two partings.

Anyway, the point: if I obsessed as often as I did over a Siberian Husky and was depressed to the point of chemical need over a Pekingese, I can only imagine what having an actual child that I couldn’t raise as I saw fit would do to me emotionally. (While babies aren’t nearly as cute or funny or affectionate as dogs, I have heard that when you’re around them long enough they start to seem almost like people.) Then I think of the women I’ve known who have given up children for adoption and spent years worrying about them and still feeling a bond and remiss in their abilities. (In one case the child resulted from rape and the mother had since married and reared several legitimate children, but she still felt that a “hole”, particularly since she had held the baby before giving it up for adoption.) I just don’t think that emotionally I can do this, as much as I would like to help a couple of friends by doing something that I’d be doing for no purpose at least once or twice a day anyway.

So… just can’t do it. I recommend a sperm bank as there’s no emotional attachment or chance of bitter custody war in later years (there’s just the “hope that guy she makes out with after the prom isn’t her half-brother” thing). However, if I ever procreate I want it to be because I want a child (and frankly, I’ve never particularly wanted a child- I don’t think I’d be a great father, I don’t want the commitment and responsibility and “universal center displacement” that fatherhood should be because frankly I’m just too selfish at this point of my life, by the time I’m not this selfish I’ll probably be too old to be a good dad and then there’s the whole Arsenic & Old Lace consideration: “Insanity doesn’t run in my family… it gallops.”) So my answer is no.

Side story: My mother has never and most likely will never accept the fact that I am not like other boys (in addition to which, I’m gay) but, for whatever reason, I actually shared this story with her last night. At first she was stunned, then she stunned me by saying “Although if you do decide to go through with it, it would give me a grandchild* and you a child without having to go through all the terrible parts of having a baby… and I’ve seen [the one who would be the birth mother] and I think the two of you could make a beautiful baby… and let’s face it… this is probably the last opportunity you’re going to have to be a father.” I was shocked that she addressed so bluntly something that she never addresses directly or indirectly, but then she quickly added “… Because of your * AGE*, I mean!” (Never mind that I’m from a family where as many men have become fathers after the age of fifty [and in some cases much older than that] as haven’t.)

*A few years ago my mother began lamenting the fact that she would never have grandchildren because my sister was over forty and never conceived (or tried to) and I… well… was… likely to be a bachelor for a long time. “It would be so nice to have someone to carry on the line and to buy little outfits for and to tell stories about the generations to” yada yada. I actually started feeling guilty for not doing my part.

Then I remembered something.

“Mama… you do have grandchildren… I’ve seen them. They’re teenagers, they look just like me and [my sister] and you, they’re even honor students.”

My mother: Aw, you know I never did particularly like your brother! And those kids are spoiled brats! I mean some grandchildren I could be proud of!

(Her grandchildren are my brother’s children and they almost never see each other as she and my brother don’t even pretend to get along.)