Share   

You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to buy sperm

One night in September 2022, like a kid sticking my finger into the flame of a candle, I Googled "how to buy sperm".

I'd been thinking about it since splitting with a partner a year earlier. I was 37, and had started wondering if continuing on the “traditional” path – meeting someone, getting to know them well enough to decide to have children together, attempting to get pregnant – might cost me the chance to have kids.

As much as I've always wanted to be a mom, I never felt the desire to be pregnant; I felt wary of the physical toll of it. I’d looked into adopting, but it's hugely cost-prohibitive (friends had been trying for two years; they'd have 48 hours notice and would pay $40,000 if selected). Fostering was also out of the question because the state of New York requires prospective parents to live in a two-bedroom home, which I don’t have. I'd pursue these options if need be, but hoped for a less complicated path.

Still, I didn't feel pressure to choose a partner or settle. Rather, I felt lucky to live at this moment in time, when it seemed easier than ever to have a child on my own. I just had to figure out how that actually worked.

My search returned ads for California Cryobank, Seattle Sperm Bank and Fairfax Cryobank. I clicked on the links and found the "donor search" buttons. Pictures of the donors as adorable kids showed up on my screen, along with a few search criteria.

I had no idea what I was looking for, but after an hour of scrolling, I started to think dating was the real gamble. Buying sperm meant I could sort for qualities I'd feel rude asking about on dates – genetics, mental and family health, engineering skills.

Buying sperm seemed so straightforward. Vials cost $1,200 to $2,500 each. Seattle Sperm Bank offered free audio recordings of donors. Fairfax Cryobank offered interviews à la carte for $34. By the end of the week, I was spending more time skimming donor profiles than dating apps, my mind racing with all the things I'd need to consider.

But before looking for a new job or a bigger apartment, I knew I needed to answer one more question: could my body even get pregnant? When a friend mentioned she was getting her fertility markers tested at a place called Kindbody for just $99, I booked an appointment.

Read more at:

The Guardian