News: DYK: Today's sperm donors want to know about their offspring – and even be involved in their lives

In 1986, Richard Hatch, infamous villain and victor of CBS's inaugural season ofSurvivor, was a cash-strapped undergraduate at George Mason University in Virginia.He was looking for ways to fatten his slim income when he came across a local newspaper ad seeking sperm donations at $40 a pop. “Before signing up, I thought through everything” he said in a recent interview from his home in Newport, Rhode Island. “I considered potential contact with my donor offspring at a later date or no contact at all; what I might feel if I met him or her; who might be looking for donations.” His sexuality also played into his decision: “Growing up, I always knew I wanted to have a family and kids, but because I'm gay that wasn't going to happen with a woman, so I think in the back of my head, donating was a way to do that.”Today, Hatch is a married father of one adopted son, but he longs to connect with his progeny. He has repeatedly written to the Fairfax Cryobank, where he donated three times a week for two years, waiving his right to anonymity. “I requested that my name be given to anyone searching for me for any reason,” he said.When I reminded him that that could mean hundreds of offspring showing up on his doorstep, he didn't flinch. “Life for me is meaningful communication and engagement, so there's no freaking out about this at all. I'm excited about the possibility of making contact with as many of them as I can. I even feel a longing to meet them.” To gauge his level of truthfulness, I asked, “So, you wouldn't mind if I included your donor identification number in the story?” To which he swiftly replied, “007.” (Seriously, those are his digits.) Hatch admits that he may be “a little odd,” but it turns out he's less odd than one might think.Contrary to popular perceptions, sperm donors aren't always mindless 20-somethings, thoughtlessly squandering their seed for cash without a passing thought to the lives that might result from their donations. A 2012 study titled “Semen donors who are open to contact with their offspring: issues and implications for them and their families,” found that of 164 sperm donors, the primary motivation for donating was to help families who wanted to have children (78 percent), followed by making money (61 percent), and passing on genes (41 percent). 

And, like Hatch, 97 percent of them think about their biological brood: they wonder about their health and happiness and how much of their genetics are reflected in their physical characteristics.Wendy Kramer is co-founder, with her donor-conceived son Ryan, of the Donor Sibling Registry (DSR).
 It has been helping connect paternal half-siblings with each other and their donors since 2000. Kramer told me that she often meets two types of men in her role as the de facto mother hen of the DSR: men who want to connect with their donees once they've had their own children, and men who've never had their own kids and consequently desire to find their genetic heirs.Robert, an actor who donated for a decade in the late 60s and 70s, falls into the latter category. From his apartment in New York City, he said that right after a former girlfriend gave birth to his daughter, a stillborn and the only child he'd ever be able to call his own, he'd search the faces of females in crowds, trying to find a resemblance to his own. “I'm very happy not having gone through the war of raising children,” he explained, “but on the other hand, you have to notice when people say, 'This is the greatest experience in the world.'“While Robert stresses that he doesn't feel a gap in his life, he's taken significant steps to track down his genetic children. Eight years ago, he registered on the DSR and logged his DNA with an ancestry organization in the hope that it might lead to his descendants. “I've been expecting that I would be hearing from and communicating with them,” he noted with a touch of sadness. “I'm a little disappointed that hasn't happened.”“The biggest misconception about donors,” Kramer said, “is that they all want to be anonymous. Wrong. Wrong!” In the 2012 survey, which Kramer co-authored, 94 percent of donors were open to contact with their offspring. Of those, 86 percent would make themselves available for any questions their bio-children might have; 83 percent would share medical information; and 80 percent would be happy to carry on an email relationship and share photos.