My wife and I left the doctor's office and walked across the parking lot to our car. I'd put my arm around her to comfort her. She couldn't hold back her emotions and burst into tears.
The doctor meeting could not have gone worse. My wife and I had decided -- after six years of marriage -- that we wanted to have a child. After a year of trying, we'd had no success and tensions at our house had grown. The doctor we'd just left was a fertility specialist and had just delivered the news that my sperm count was so low that we'd most likely not have kids unless they harvested my sperm and did IVF. We were good with that until he told us that it generally takes three tries with IVF to get pregnant, and, each attempt cost $10,000. To make it still worse, IVF was not covered by my insurance.
We'd reached the car and we stood there. She was balling and I was holding her tight.
On the ride home Linda, my wife, and I talked. We weren't poor, but we didn't have an extra $30,000 handy to pay for the procedures.
"Joe," she said, "I just can't stand this. I want a child. We have to figure out something!"
When we arrived home, it was 4:30 and she just walked to the bedroom, lay on the bed and cried some more. I decided to give her some time.
She didn't get up for dinner and was still in bed when I turned out the lights and joined her in bed. We were laying on our sides facing each other and I stroked her upper arm.
"What are we going to do," she asked.
"I don't know. And, I'm really sorry that it seems to be me. It's my low sperm count that's the problem. Honestly, I never had any idea about this. If I had, I would have told you before we got married. That would have only been fair."
"Don't blame yourself," she said.
"I know we can't afford IVF, but maybe we can find another way. Maybe we can find our own sperm donor. While you were sleeping, I checked online and they have insemination kits you can buy."
"I'd have to think about that. We can talk later."
The next day was Saturday and we both slept late. Over breakfast, I asked Linda if she'd thought more about getting a sperm donor. She said that she'd let another man's sperm get her pregnant if I'd be willing to raise a child that I knew wasn't mine. I told her that while we'd both make some accommodations, I would be good with that if we had a child.
"So, what do we do first?"
"Make a list, I guess!"
After breakfast, we sat together at the kitchen table with an empty page and a pen. We were ready to make our list of possible sperm donors. It was awkward getting started. She didn't want to name any men fearing that I'd think she'd been eying them and I was reluctant to suggest men that I wouldn't mind having their spunk inside her.
We did agree that strangers were out and that it should be someone that we both generally liked but no one too close to us. We also agreed that it should be someone that generally looked like me. We thought that it would keep down any questions going forward.
I was thirty-one, six-foot-three with a good build. I had light brown hair, a moderately hairy chest from my collar bone to my navel and generally hairy legs. I was trying to keep fit and had a flat abdomen, strong legs, and pretty well-defined pecs.
With that as an outline for the donor, we sat staring at the blank sheet of paper.
Several names had come up and been rejected by one or the other.
"How about Dave from my office? He's the one in the marketing department."
"Who," she asked.
"You know Dave, we've met at several office things. The last time was at the Duncan's pool party. You know, he came over flirting and asking if you had a single twin sister."
"Oh, that Dave." Linda was thinking. "Well, you two do look a lot alike. Same height, hair color, both fit. If you were both in silhouette, I'd have a hard time telling you apart." Linda continued pondering the option. "Do you think he'd do it?"
"I could ask. I'll see him Monday at the office."
"Okay," she said. "We've been working on this for over an hour and he's the only prospect we have. Sure. Ask him."
The discussion continued as we spoke of details. Linda got on the computer and ordered an insemination kit online. It was due for deliver the next Thursday.
Monday, I passed Dave in the hall told him I wanted to talk about something and suggested lunch. He accepted. I really wasn't sure how one asks another guy for his sperm. It would be an interesting lunch.
I'd picked a small Italian place. It was mostly a dinner place and never had much of a crowd for lunch. I thought it would give us some privacy for this weird conversation. I even asked for a corner booth for added privacy.
We were waiting for our meals when Dave plowed ahead, "So what's this thing you want to talk about?"
I decided to start from the beginning. The story ended with our search for a sperm donor.
"So," Dave said, "you want me to supply the baby batter? Sure, I'm in."
I explained that we'd be having an attorney draw up a contract to protect all of us. It would give him no rights to the child unless we both died and he wanted to adopt the child. We were willing to pay him $1,000 a month for the term of the contract but there was nothing beyond that.
"Well," Dave said, "I have some terms to write into the contract. The term will be from the date we sign until there's a baby. You'll pay me by check from your joint checking account and both of you will sign the check. And, on the memo line you'll write "for stud services." That way, if you try to fuck me, I'll be able to show people checks showing that you hire me to get Linda pregnant."
