"I don't think I'd do it without the money," confesses Andrew, a 21-year old third-year law student from London who responded to a magazine advert last year and is now half way through his six month weekly sperm donor duty.
Andrew may seem just like your average young male student flopped out on the sofa in the small flat he shares near Paddington, but unlike most boys next door, he's busy fathering perhaps ten or more kids. "It all started out as some fun and extra cash," he explains. "But the fun soon wears thin - it can get a bit like 'I've started so I'll finish'. And you don't get much money, but it's a kind of excuse for coming each time. You're not thinking, 'I'm going along to give people babies.'" "Then it hits you," he continues with an apparent spurt of parental vigour, "that there are some real people out there who actually need you to show up and do your bit each time."
Each year in the UK, it is estimated that approximately:
- 5000 couples seek fertility treatment by donor insemination
- 10,000 men apply to donate sperm
- 500 suitable sperm donors are accepted
- 1100 babies are conceived and born using donated sperm
Giving all you've got - what's in it for you?
According to the law, 'donation' means just that: giving freely. However the UK's regulatory body, the HFEA (Human Fertilisation & Embryology Authority) allows sperm donors to receive minimal 'expenses' from either NHS or private sector clinics, averaging out at £20 a whack. But although the HFEA controls the going rate for sperm donation in the UK, it cannot regulate the prices private sector clinics charge recipients for his sperm, these are often considerable amounts.
Andrew gets half his money up front, and the rest on completion once the final sample is released from quarantine six months after deposit with a clean bill of health. This is a great incentive for him to last the course and keep supplying a clean, healthy white batch.
Once released from quarantine six months after the last sample is donated, Andrew's sperm can be used to successfully fertilise a maximum of ten lucky ladies. Each of these women can, following their first successful birth, chose to use his sperm again to have further little brothers and sisters of the first one.
If you are in the US however, your 'jizum 'may be appreciated somewhat more than in the UK. Regulations allow recipients to pay, and donors to receive larger sums of money. Be warned though as the donor criteria can be a lot more 'selective', with some clinics seeking, and then boasting, donors above a certain height with first class degrees. One bank, The Repository of Germinal Choice, at one time only accepted sperm from Nobel Prize studs!
By contrast, HFEA aims for a wider UK 'sperm pool', more truly representative of society as a whole, believing this gives couples real choice in their hunt for the one thing they really want , attributes resembling those of the male partner, not some idealised 'super sperm'.
So there's money in them there balls! At around twenty pounds a shot, after six months' shooting, Andrew can expect to take home just under £500 in his sticky little pockets - enough for a holiday or to supplement his student loan.
It's no coincidence that three quarters of all donors in the UK are indeed university students. Many sperm banks are found at college medical hospital fertility clinics, fortuitously close to a supply of fit, virile, fairly intelligent males who won't say no to a bit of cash in cock-filled hands between lectures and drinking section.
Clinics are keen to recruit donors from all backgrounds and there is always a shortage. So if you still fancy making money out of a load of wank, don't be shy guys. It isn't easy though, as word has it, most wannabe wankers fail to make it through to the big steaming vat in the lab!
"They're probably half expecting you not to show after you've phoned," says Andrew, "so they're quite relieved when you do. They try hard to put you at ease, explaining what's involved, all the tests and the practical and legal issues if you're accepted." If you are worried about anyone finding out about your little pass time, Andrew's identity is held under the highest security and anonymity in a world of code names and ciphers. Sperm bank staff can get up to two years in jail for disclosure.
"Sure it's embarrassing to talk about," says Andrew nervously. "Only my very closest friend knows I'm doing this and he'd never tell a soul. I don't have a girlfriend at the moment. If I did have one I doubt I'd be donating. I'm sure she wouldn't like it, for various reasons!"
"And I definitely wouldn't tell my parents they're about to get grandchildren they'll never meet," he continues. "I don't think that would go down well at all."
Like all donors, Andrew has signed away any right to know whether his children have been born or who they or their 'parents' are. This is the harsh reality of donating sperm and for many people, can be a hard burden to bear, but if you want to donate, clearly no access can be granted. A donor is the biological father, but he is not the legal father, so there can be no statements through, nor knocks upon, Andrew's door.
Likewise, neither the 'parent couple' nor the children have any right to know any more about Andrew, other than the general characteristics he ticks on his initial donor form. These include hair colour, build, occupation and hobbies - apart from 'wanking', 'eating and reading' should keep them all guessing. This information will be available to interested couples during their 'sperm hunt' and also to the children on reaching adulthood. Andrew has also given permission for his semen to be used in other research, in accordance with strict rules governing such work, the law currently prohibits any 'genetically modified Andrews'! In recent years there have been calls, alarmingly backed by some children's charities, for offspring conceived by donor insemination to be granted the right to discover the identity of their biological dads. In the unlikely event of the law being changed it is hard to see how it could be enforced retrospectively and such a change would, say many, deter potential donors by the dozen and spell the end of sperm donation as we know it in the UK.
Have you got the balls for it? Could you donate?
The criteria for donating are strict, the tests rigorous, and the donation demanding. Only 1 in 20 applicant wannabe wankers are accepted as new spunky boy donors.
A man must:
- be in good health
- aged 18-45 years
- not engaged in sexual activity classed as 'high risk' for HIV
- not taking drugs intravenously
- from a family with no history of hereditary illness
- be available to donate sperm on a weekly basis for, yes, at least six months
Only then should you consider undergoing fuller tests to ascertain suitability for donating...
So how was our Andrew selected for the good of his gonads?
- Before any selection tests began, our man had to digest and complete a long form confirming his understanding and acceptance of all the issues, laws and rights, as well as detailing his medical history.
- He was then quizzed about his general health, sex life, any drug usage and his family medical record. He also gave blood and urine samples for thorough analysis.
"Then" - says Andrew - "the moment arrives: to produce your first semen sample. You are given this plastic specimen jar and shown to this small, bare room where you lock the door pretty bloody firmly."
No naughty nurses it seems, just a stash of porn mags, a box of Kleenex, and your own imagination. Donors are normally asked to 'avoid the urges' of ejaculation for two to three days before giving any sample, including this first one, to build up their 'count'. According the Andrew, easier said than done!
Deed done, the donor calmly hands the proudly brimming beaker back to the member of staff on duty who places his precious cargo in an incubator prior to analysis for suitability.
To be of use, the sperm cells must be sufficient in number, well shaped and mobile. A would-be donor might now discover he is himself infertile and may one day be reliant on the kindness of strangers. Many applicants have their semen rejected since their sperm, no matter how well-formed and fertile, don't like the cold and would be unable to survive all the deep-freezing required. The clinic also conducts chromosome tests and people from certain ethnic groups are checked out for high-risk illnesses like sickle cell anaemia.
Finally, and perhaps the most nerve-wracking of all, a donor is asked to get his GP to contact the clinic if he knows any reason why he should not donate.
But if the forms and jars are filled and all the tests come good, congratulations! You are one of just a few hundred sticky handfuls of new recruits each year in the UK, making up only one in twenty of the thousands of initial applicants who can rightfully call yourself 'Sperm Donor'.
"You feel quite good about it actually," Andrew admits, "knowing you've got good spunk! And it's also a bit of a relief when they don't find anything nasty in your genes or blood that could change your life." "You'll occasionally brush past other donors waiting outside the booth," at this point Andrew blushes ever so slightly. "And you might even see one of your kid's mothers-to-be in the waiting room if she's in for a check-up, not that you'd ever know of course."
Hopefully Andrew's experiences are representative of sperm donation being more that just a few minutes' self-gratification once a week for several months and the odd bob. Quite apart from the intrusion into your privacy and the vulnerability the raft of tests induces, it's not just a kidney or heart you are giving up, but the potential for entire human beings. Being a sperm donor, you are asked to take the responsibilities of fatherhood very seriously, to form new habits: abstaining for days on end, making regular trips to the sperm bank and avoiding putting yourself or your health at risk. "But I think the weirdest experience is still to come," Andrew muses. "In a few months time I'll be staring at this baby on the tube, and thinking - 'is that mine?' There could be ten or more of my kids out there, who I'll never meet - my own flesh and blood."
"I don't know how I'll feel, a bit sad maybe," says Andrew, keen to be a parent himself one day. "But it won't feel like I've got children, and they'll probably be brought up to think their father was just some sperm anyway, if they're told anything at all."
"I guess," Andrew concludes, "I would secretly like to see them from a distance or something. Anything more than that wouldn't be fair on anyone. I really just hope that they and their parents are healthy and happy. That would make me feel good."