Navigating Parenthood Amidst a Global Pandemic: A Personal Journey

When the pandemic struck, it brought about a host of unexpected shortages, including something that might surprise you: sperm. One January morning in 2021, my partner stumbled upon an article discussing the decline in sperm donations, a consequence of our newfound obsession with “contact tracing.” A sperm bank that typically boasted 600 donors had seen that number dwindle to just 400. The realization of this scarcity reignited our dormant plans for starting a family.

My partner and I met in 2013 and tied the knot in 2019 at a beautiful old inn in upstate New York. What once seemed like a rushed seven-month engagement now feels like a stroke of luck. We had intended to begin our family around 2020, but COVID-19 put those plans on hold—until now.

While none of us envisioned creating a family during a global health crisis, the reality was that the pandemic wasn’t going anywhere. Yes, parents of young children bore the brunt of the challenges, and yes, our finances had taken a hit—my storytelling event had gone virtual, which wasn’t exactly lucrative! But with my partner in her late 30s and friends facing lengthy struggles with IVF, it was time to take the plunge.

We signed up with one of the nation’s top sperm banks, known for its steep fees and a mere 1% acceptance rate. Unlike getting a tattoo (which I finally did at 40), this wasn’t a moment for cutting corners. The bank presented us with countless profiles of donors, each accompanied by upbeat names like “Bilingual Brainiac” and “A-List Athlete.” After narrowing them down based on our health criteria, we found ourselves with just 23 options.

The term “anonymous donor” is a bit misleading; we had access to more info about these men than I do about some friends. We created a spreadsheet categorizing candidates into Possibilities, Maybe, and Nope. “Nope” quickly accumulated descriptors like “too into sports” and “not very interesting.”

My family thought I was relishing this expensive shopping spree, but I was struggling with the reality that our child wouldn’t share my DNA. I wanted to experience the same journey as my straight friends—creating a child with the person I love. A comforting chat with an adopted friend reassured me, as she simply stated, “She’s my Mum.”

The first interview was with an individual I dubbed “Friendly Scientist.” When asked what mattered most to him, he replied, “Sustainability.” He boasted a 4.0 GPA and a wide social circle, which made me note, “used the word assuage.” Strangely enough, he shared similar physical traits with me, right down to the blue eyes and curly hair.

After interviewing more candidates, Friendly Scientist emerged at the top, along with another contender, “Handsome Chef.” However, by morning, Handsome Chef had vanished from the list, and I panicked. I woke my partner to insist we secure Friendly Scientist immediately. A few forms later, we were the proud owners of several vials of a stranger’s sperm.

The following months were chaotic, filled with needles, hormones, and various health-related delays, culminating in Insemination Day. The process took a mere 10 seconds, but two weeks later, we received the life-changing call: my partner was pregnant. A swirl of emotions hit me—joy, fear, uncertainty. Was having a baby during an ongoing pandemic wise?

Despite the challenges, we’ve always dreamt of starting a family, and the consensus is that there’s never a perfect time for such a monumental decision. While we’re both career-focused and not overly anxious about being “left behind,” I look forward to sharing the comforting experiences from my own childhood with our little one.

As we await the arrival of our child, we acknowledge the chaos surrounding us—my partner feels excitement mingled with fear about childbirth and parenthood. We may not have everything figured out, but we’re ready to face this adventure together.

For those interested in similar journeys, you can check out this informative post from Make a Mom, and for more helpful resources, visit Kindbody.