From becoming a parent to helping others, three adults on how sperm donation changed their lives
With the UK facing a national shortage of donor semen, we chat to a single mum and a personal trainer about how it changed their lives
NOT SO long ago, sperm donation was a taboo topic. But fast-forward to 2018, and it’s increasingly being used to help both single people and couples have the children they long for.
Each year, around 1,300 babies born in the UK are conceived with donor semen. However, last year, one of the UK’s biggest sperm banks, Semovo, revealed that due to increase in demand it has 750 patients – but only 50 samples available.
“A changing attitude towards sperm donation means people are less secretive about it now,” explains Dr Amit Shah, IVF specialist at Fertility Plus. “This has led to a huge influx of requests, which sperm banks are simply failing to keep pace with.”
Add to that more relaxed NHS funding regulations that make using sperm donors more affordable than ever before for single women, and same-sex female and transgender couples, and Dr Shah says we are heading for a national donor sperm shortage.
“More people can access IVF using semen donation than in previous years,” he adds. “However, sperm banks simply aren’t able to meet the ever-expanding quotas.”
With the UK desperately seeking swimmers, we speak to three people about how a donation changed their lives for the better.
It’s easier than dating
Single mum Davina Patel, 41, lives in London with her son Jay, 13 months.
“I’ve always wanted to be a mum and assumed it would happen the traditional way. Yet after more than a decade of dating, I hadn’t found the right guy to settle down with. I’d never worried about my biological clock before, but in 2013 I was diagnosed with endometriosis, which can affect fertility. It was a big wake-up call – I was 37, single, and now had the added pressure of health complications if I ever wanted to conceive.
“A year later, I paid £500 for a fertility test and was told I had an ovarian reserve of a 40-45 year old, despite being just 38. I couldn’t fathom a future with no family of my own, so I began researching options, including adoption and fostering. But I felt that sperm donation was the cheapest and easiest route for me.
“I didn’t meet NHS criteria, so had to pay for it privately using my savings. Thankfully, my friends and family were really supportive and understood my reasoning, which meant a lot to me. So, feeling I had nothing to lose but everything to gain, I went for it.
“I knew I wanted an Indian donor so the baby would look like me. This narrowed down my options, as the UK has a shortage of ethnic donors. Apart from that, I just wanted a man who looked friendly and was fairly attractive. In the end, I paid £88 and signed up to the European Sperm Bank (ESB).
“After browsing the profiles, I put together a shortlist before meeting a friend at a bar to pick the father. We had a blast going through each candidate on her iPad until one caught my eye. He had a perfect medical history, good eyesight and was very handsome. Plus, he’d written a lovely letter to the child and family-to-be with details about himself, as well as wishing us the best of luck in starting a family. He’d even included an audio clip so we could hear his voice. I took an instant liking to him, and decided he was the one.
“After that, things moved quickly. I booked an appointment at Zita West fertility clinic in London, where ESB sent the frozen donor sperm. Then, in October 2015 I started IVF, costing £4,500 each round. Despite being on the cusp of such a life-changing process, all I felt was excitement.
“Sadly, my first round ended in miscarriage at five weeks. I knew that IVF could be very difficult so I had prepared myself for heartache, but it was still a blow. I gave myself a couple of months to recover physically and mentally before trying again in February 2016.
Amazingly, this time everything went perfectly. I loved waking up each morning and watching my bump grow. Being a single mum didn’t matter – my sister-in-law Nicola, 37, came to my scans, and my family supported me every step of the way. If anyone ever asked about the father, I was open about the fact I’d used a sperm donor.
“On November 25, 2016, I gave birth to my son Jay. Holding him for the first time, I’d never felt so much joy. I still have to pinch myself that he’s real. At the moment I’m on extended maternity leave from my job as an administrator, and I love being a single mum. I’m very self-sufficient, and having all of the parenting responsibility is tough, but it means that I don’t have anyone letting me down. Luckily, I’ve never encountered any criticism about my decision and most people think it’s incredibly brave.
“Jay is absolutely gorgeous – I did well considering I never met his dad! I tell everyone that he’s donor-conceived and I’ll explain everything to Jay when the time is right, too. After that, it will be his choice whether he wants to keep it a secret or not, and I’ll respect that.
“Up until 2005, men were able to donate semen anonymously, but then the law changed and any child born since that date has the right to trace their biological father when they turn 18. If Jay wanted to meet his father or look for any half-siblings he might have, I’d fully encourage it.
“I have more fertilised embryos on ice, but I haven’t decided whether to have another baby yet. Right now I’m still getting used to Jay being mine, and I’ll forever be grateful to sperm donation for helping me to become a mum.”
I’m desperate to track down my half-siblings
Donor-conceived Mollie Beales, 27, a nursery worker, lives in Hove, East Sussex, with her IT technician fiancé Michael and sons Flynn, four, and Quinn, two.
“My mum Carole, 65, had both me and my brother Hari, 29, via sperm donation while she was with her ex-partner Julia. They split while Mum was pregnant with me, but I’ve always known my dad was a sperm donor. There was never any big reveal and we always spoke openly about it, so it seemed normal to me.
“Sperm donation was different back then. It wasn’t as common, so there weren’t as many regulations in place. My mum didn’t know much about the donor, apart from that he had a clear medical history and was 6ft tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. With Hari, her donor sperm was administered at the clinic, but with me she simply picked up the sample from the clinic before doing a home insemination.
“Growing up, I found it fascinating. I liked telling people because they were always amazed and had lots of questions. Kids at school were especially interested, although some called me names, like ‘test-tube baby’, which used to annoy me because it wasn’t correct. In the end I grew a thick skin, so it didn’t bother me too much.
“I always felt that I could speak to Mum about it and would often ask how the process worked or how she chose the donor. I think having everything so out in the open and shame-free helped me come to terms with my conception.
“Early last year, after reading about it online, my brother and I joined the Donor Conceived Register [DCR] – a website that enables people conceived via donation to contact relatives.
“Until then, we’d always thought we were full siblings, but after having a DNA test for our DCR profile it was confirmed that he was only my half-brother. It came as a huge shock, especially for Mum, as she thought it was the same donor. But the fertility clinic she used has since closed, so we’ve not been able to get any answers.
“Losing that connection to Hari was tough at first and really upset me. But I soon realised that it could never really change our relationship – we grew up together and he’s still my brother.
“As I’ve got older, I’ve become determined to find out if I have any other half-siblings. It’s mainly out of curiosity, and if I did, I’d love to meet them and have a relationship because it would be nice to be part of a large family.
“When it comes to my biological dad, it is strange not knowing what he’s like or who he is, other than a few physical features. Although I have no rights to trace him due to anonymity laws, I’d be interested to meet him. I’m not bothered about asking why he donated – whether it was for money or as a good deed, as either way he did a great thing because my mum was able to have children as a result.
“Sometimes I do wonder what he is doing or if I’ve ever bumped into him without realising. I guess I’ll never know. I’m just glad sperm donation is much more regulated now and donor-conceived offspring have the option to get in touch with their biological father.
“People always ask if I grew up feeling like something was missing from my life, but I’ve never felt lost or unwanted. If anything, it’s comforting knowing that Mum wanted me so much that she used a donor – I definitely wasn’t unplanned!
“In 1994, Mum got together with my stepdad Michael. I was only four so it didn’t cross my mind that it might be considered strange that she’d been with a woman before – we’re clearly just a very open-minded family! It also meant that, despite not knowing my real dad, I’ve had a father figure in my life ever since.
“Now I’ve got two beautiful children with my fiancé Michael. If we’d had trouble conceiving then I would have used a sperm donor – but only if that was something we both wanted.
“I know some donor-conceived adults are against sperm donation because they find it distressing to have been conceived this way, but I don’t. Donors help start families – without them, I wouldn’t be here.”
Donating comes with a moral responsibility
David Sandhurst, 33, is a personal trainer from London.
“When I first donated in summer 2009, I was 25 and completely broke. I’d seen an advert on the Tube for a sperm bank offering up to £35 per donation and thought it would be a quick way to make money. But it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. After approaching the London Sperm Bank, I was referred to a psychiatrist who talked me through everything, explaining that children could get in touch with me as their biological father when they turned 18.
“I hadn’t thought about what it would be like to actually meet my biological children, but it didn’t put me off. To be honest, I didn’t dwell on the subject too much – I was young and naive.
“I had to go through a barrage of medical checks, including screenings for HIV, chlamydia, cystic fibrosis and hepatitis B, as well as providing a semen sample to ensure I was producing healthy sperm. Only then was I allowed to sign up to donate twice a week for a year, for a payment of £500.
“I’d often drop into the clinic on the way to work to make my donation and would be in and out within an hour. Sometimes it was a bit of a chore, but the staff were really friendly. My friends and family were supportive, although my dad was initially apprehensive because he’s a priest! Occasionally, my mates would make a couple of light-hearted jokes at my expense in the pub, but I’d just laugh it off.
“However, as the months went on, it became much more to me than just paying bills. When I visited the clinic to donate, I’d see couples enquiring about IVF and donors. It was really humbling to see the people I was helping, and it gave me a huge sense of fulfilment. Blokes go out all the time and get girls pregnant on one-night stands, but there are lots of desperate people who can’t have babies.
“Now I think of it as a charity donation – not everyone has money to give, but half the population has sperm and should donate at least once if they can.
“My girlfriend and I have been together for two years, and I’ve been open about my past from the start. Fortunately she was OK with everything, but as we’re hoping to start our own family soon, I do find myself thinking about the possibility of biological children knocking on my door.
“When you donate, you can help a maximum of 10 families, so in theory I could have fathered dozens of children. It’s weird to think that I could have a handful of kids somewhere.
“Even so, I’m not worried about meeting any of them, and I’d be disappointed if no one got in touch. It would be amazing to see the people I’ve directly helped.
“Sometimes I wonder what I’d say to them, and I’d be happy to answer any questions they had about why I donated. If you father via donation you don’t have any legal obligations to pay for child maintenance.
“Although I don’t have any regrets, I don’t plan to donate my sperm again. It’s a big decision and shouldn’t be taken lightly.
“Even though you’re technically not becoming a parent, you do have a certain level of moral responsibility if the children do ever want to meet you in the future.”
- Names have been changed
- Hair & make-up: Eloise Parker
- Styling: Daisy Jordan