Sperm Donor
by Anonymous
When I was a tender young age of 21, I decided to get a vasectomy, and I ended up being a sperm donor. There were many reasons I had and many events leading up to the decision to get a vasectomy.
One of these events was an ex-girlfreind claiming that she had gotten pregnant by me and had an abortion. So she wanted some money to pay for it. I felt like an asshole for not having been there for her, an incredible amount of guilt. This drove me deeper into the depression I was already experiencing. Later on I found out from a mutual friend that not only had she slept with several other guys that same weekend, but many of those guys also paid for an abortion that never happened. Not surprisingly, she has never returned my phone calls since that time.
After that experience, plus some childhood abuse issues I am still unraveling to this day, I wanted to get a vasectomy. I didn’t want to make a decision I could never reverse, so I decided to store some of my sperm for possible future use. So I went to a cryogenics lab for the storage. The staff was clean, professional, and discreet, which is good because the storage and processing costs were a lot for me. To process and store one ejaculate cost about $150.00 (this was 1992), with other storage fees for long term storage. They also wanted a minimum of five ejaculates.
I had to make sure to abstain for 48 hours, and take no alcohol or any other drugs. They were also very concerned about cold medication, as it could cause dehydration. After my first donation I got a call from the lab. It turns out that my ejaculate size was rather large, my sperm count was 50% above normal, and the survival rate of my sperm after freezing was also 50% higher than normal. They wanted to know if I would be a sperm donor. They would pay me $35.00 per ejaculate, I could donate twice a week, and I would be paid at the end of the month. They also threw in storage of my personal sperm indefinitely for free.
I told them I would think about it. To be honest, I was a bit giddy. Even at the time it seemed silly to me to feel proud of a biological function that I had no control over, but I was. I called them up the next day and signed on.
There were lots of forms to fill out, mostly relating to privacy. That is one of the reasons I am writing this anonymously, I signed a form saying I would never publicly reveal my employment.
I also had to take a monthly AIDS test. I hate getting blood drawn and I never got used to it. I also had to take some medication because they said I had some sort of minor infection. Apparently it’s pretty common, and usually asymptomatic. I was just a dumb kid so I didn’t follow up on exactly what it was.
To make the donation I would enter the lab from a back door with a key they had provided me, pick up a sterile cup, then go up a flight of stairs to the donation room. The rooms were like small waiting rooms, maybe 10’X10’ with a couch and a sofa. The room was kept dimly lit and there was always a stack of Playboys and Penthouses. After filling the cup, I took it downstairs again, labeled it and left it on a table.
It was actually pretty routine after a while. The thing that I disliked most was abstaining. I was 21 and my hormones were always racing. I was single at the time, so it was easier. After a while I got bored of the magazines, they just didn’t get new ones fast enough. Since there were 2 rooms, I would switch so I could find new reading material. One time I wore in a brightly colored hat and was asked not to were it, as it might attract attention from people visiting the fertility clinic, which was part of the lab.
There was also a time when another donor was there and we were labeling our cups at the same time. The first thing I thought of was to switch the cups. I would never do such a thing, but the thought struck me. It must have struck him also because he was grinning also. He finished his labeling and walked out. As I finished mine, one of the lab assistants came into the room and was giving me a look like she’d just sucked on a lemon. We had done nothing wrong, but I swear she could read my mind right then.
I donated for about 18 months. The money was great, about 30% of what I was making at my full time job, and it almost paid for rent each month. I eventually started dating again and went less frequently. Eventually they said they had a surplus of my sperm and only wanted me to donate once a month. I decided to quit at that point and move on with my life.
I didn’t end up getting the vasectomy, but that’s another story. I have since moved far away from that state and have a wife and child now. I wonder if my personal sperm is still being stored 13 years later…
Read indy comic hot shot Jeffrey Brown's story HERE.
Or Check out Becca Costello's madcap adventure with dolphins in Gay Hawaii HERE.
And of course all of my own work tales are HERE!
When I was a tender young age of 21, I decided to get a vasectomy, and I ended up being a sperm donor. There were many reasons I had and many events leading up to the decision to get a vasectomy.
One of these events was an ex-girlfreind claiming that she had gotten pregnant by me and had an abortion. So she wanted some money to pay for it. I felt like an asshole for not having been there for her, an incredible amount of guilt. This drove me deeper into the depression I was already experiencing. Later on I found out from a mutual friend that not only had she slept with several other guys that same weekend, but many of those guys also paid for an abortion that never happened. Not surprisingly, she has never returned my phone calls since that time.
After that experience, plus some childhood abuse issues I am still unraveling to this day, I wanted to get a vasectomy. I didn’t want to make a decision I could never reverse, so I decided to store some of my sperm for possible future use. So I went to a cryogenics lab for the storage. The staff was clean, professional, and discreet, which is good because the storage and processing costs were a lot for me. To process and store one ejaculate cost about $150.00 (this was 1992), with other storage fees for long term storage. They also wanted a minimum of five ejaculates.
I had to make sure to abstain for 48 hours, and take no alcohol or any other drugs. They were also very concerned about cold medication, as it could cause dehydration. After my first donation I got a call from the lab. It turns out that my ejaculate size was rather large, my sperm count was 50% above normal, and the survival rate of my sperm after freezing was also 50% higher than normal. They wanted to know if I would be a sperm donor. They would pay me $35.00 per ejaculate, I could donate twice a week, and I would be paid at the end of the month. They also threw in storage of my personal sperm indefinitely for free.
I told them I would think about it. To be honest, I was a bit giddy. Even at the time it seemed silly to me to feel proud of a biological function that I had no control over, but I was. I called them up the next day and signed on.
There were lots of forms to fill out, mostly relating to privacy. That is one of the reasons I am writing this anonymously, I signed a form saying I would never publicly reveal my employment.
I also had to take a monthly AIDS test. I hate getting blood drawn and I never got used to it. I also had to take some medication because they said I had some sort of minor infection. Apparently it’s pretty common, and usually asymptomatic. I was just a dumb kid so I didn’t follow up on exactly what it was.
To make the donation I would enter the lab from a back door with a key they had provided me, pick up a sterile cup, then go up a flight of stairs to the donation room. The rooms were like small waiting rooms, maybe 10’X10’ with a couch and a sofa. The room was kept dimly lit and there was always a stack of Playboys and Penthouses. After filling the cup, I took it downstairs again, labeled it and left it on a table.
It was actually pretty routine after a while. The thing that I disliked most was abstaining. I was 21 and my hormones were always racing. I was single at the time, so it was easier. After a while I got bored of the magazines, they just didn’t get new ones fast enough. Since there were 2 rooms, I would switch so I could find new reading material. One time I wore in a brightly colored hat and was asked not to were it, as it might attract attention from people visiting the fertility clinic, which was part of the lab.
There was also a time when another donor was there and we were labeling our cups at the same time. The first thing I thought of was to switch the cups. I would never do such a thing, but the thought struck me. It must have struck him also because he was grinning also. He finished his labeling and walked out. As I finished mine, one of the lab assistants came into the room and was giving me a look like she’d just sucked on a lemon. We had done nothing wrong, but I swear she could read my mind right then.
I donated for about 18 months. The money was great, about 30% of what I was making at my full time job, and it almost paid for rent each month. I eventually started dating again and went less frequently. Eventually they said they had a surplus of my sperm and only wanted me to donate once a month. I decided to quit at that point and move on with my life.
I didn’t end up getting the vasectomy, but that’s another story. I have since moved far away from that state and have a wife and child now. I wonder if my personal sperm is still being stored 13 years later…
Read indy comic hot shot Jeffrey Brown's story HERE.
Or Check out Becca Costello's madcap adventure with dolphins in Gay Hawaii HERE.
And of course all of my own work tales are HERE!
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