Tue 8 May 2007
Known donor bonuses
Posted by Polly under Extended Family, Known Donor, Non-Bio Mom
[11] Comments

[A shorter version of this piece is cross-posted over at LesbianDad.]
It was bedtime, and I thought I was going to have to mount a lengthy campaign to extirpate the lil’ monkey from her downstairs cousins’ room (we live upstairs from my partner’s brother and his family). Daily she ransacks her cousins’ bedroom in a never-sated hunger to fiddle with (disassemble, rearrange, touch, or simply breath upon) their toys and books. Then the fairy goddesses arrived and extracted her for me, effortlessly.
We call our known donor’s daughters our kids’ special cousins, and they had come to visit toward the end of a day of mega-wide extendo family/community fun in our back yard. The two girls simply entered the house (gliding in on feet that I’m sure didn’t even move), slipped their magic fairly fingers into our daughter’s, and led her out. They then proceeded to glide as a nymph trio across the lawn toward us, swirly filaments of fairy dust wafting behind them. They were so beautiful playing together that we postponed putting the girlie to bed ’til the special cousins went home. The love they share is unique, and palpable.
I had no idea the fruits of our extended family-making would turn out to be this sweet. I remember a conversation with the very first friends I know who had a kid with a known donor, probably like eight or ten years ago, when I was living in Minnesota. I expressed the classic fear that there’d be this dangling connection out there, which could be used to burn back into our family in some terrible way, like a line of gunpowder.
“Aren’t you worried? Think of all the terrible things that could happen!” was my refrain. Because, after all, let’s admit it, it’s all too easy to think of those terrible things. Maybe even more so if you’re not the one giving birth, and therefore stand to be made somehow invisible or irrelevant to the whole process (one can think these things, when one lets one’s wildest fears run amok.) My friend — who was the non-birth mom, after having tried unsuccessfully to conceive for several years — said something to the effect of, “Yeah, you know, I was worried, too, at first. And then our daughter was born and I realized: That’s just more love for her in the world.” And in a moment, a line that looked like gunpowder became a cord through which love passed.
Things are not always this rosy. We in the extended lesbian family family are well aware of the horror stories about custody battles with donors who’ve reversed their initial intentions to relinquish legal custody. Or somehow their families go haywire. These are the stories that are well-telegraphed, I think both because they serve as cautionary tales, but also because it’s a well-worn fact that bad or scary news sells more papers/ magazines/ web ads/ what have you. Or something to this effect. The actors are clear, the threat is clear, etc.
The stories of love and harmony may draw less attention, but I have to believe they’re more the rule than the exception. (They may say I’m a dreamer, but I’d like to think I’m not the only one.) So now I ask the following questions not just to stir up dialog, but to help dig up some more folk wisdom for a friend in Vermont who just gave birth (Congrats again, M2!). Those of you who have made your family using known sperm donors: how has your connection evolved? If they have kids, have any of you actively woven your family into theirs? How do you name the connection between your kids, and his, and how do you talk with them about it? Are you in touch with other families for whom he’s been a donor (if he’s been a known donor for other families)? If so, how is that family connection going?