Donor conceived people want to know the identity of their genetic parent(s) to varying degrees. Some have a burning desire to know everything about who they are and where they come from, while others are content with the information on a donor profile.
I have been drowning for two years with two weights tied to my legs, pulling me beneath the surface, dragging me down. The first weight was my biological father ending our relationship, and subsequently being ignored by every member of his family.
My heart breaks for my friends and other fellow donor conceived people who have reached out to their sperm sellers and been rejected. To clarify, I use the term “sperm seller” because “sperm donor” does not correctly portray the American industry.
I finally found the email of the man who I think is my donor dad. It took me about three weeks to work up the nerve to email him. I finally did, last night.
Donor conceived people are sometimes criticized for being angry. I am one of them, and I’m ok with that.
“Do you have any siblings?.” I’ve been asked that question so many times that I developed an automatic response: “No, I’m an only child.” Even when asked now, sometimes I’ll cut myself off in the middle of answering, reminding myself of my new reality.