Like thousands of other kids his age, Ben Sommer was conceived through alternative insemination and raised in a lesbian household. Recently, at 21, Sommer met his ‘dad’ for the first time.
Read the first part of this story here.
After our first email correspondence, my donor, Jack, and I began to talk on the phone some, but I always had it in my mind that I would meet him in person. That seemed like the right way to do it—present myself at his doorstep.
My pilgrimage to the frontier of the modern family brought me over 2000 miles to Sunnyvale, California—across mountains and deserts, through blizzards and rain in a beat up Camry.
My sperm donor left me a message. “Hi, Ben, it’s your father. I love saying that. Just calling about your coming visit. So give me a call.”
The word “father” surprised, even angered me. It definitely gave me a lot to think about while driving to his house. I never said he could be my father. I never signed a contract—which is why when I call him I say, “Hi, it’s Ben,” not “Hi, it’s your son.”
I’m my mothers’ son. I’m already spoken for.
Biologically he is my father, but it’s all about how the word “father” is defined. How I choose to define it will then define the relationship, and advise our interactions.
But I’m not ready to put a label on it; after spending 21 years without a father of my own it’s going to take a lot of adjusting to allow him to become that person for me. And so, I go in blind and open.
I shouldn’t be so harsh on the guy. He is a sweet and approachable man. My ambivalence is more about the idea of him. He didn’t use the word “father” to lay any claim; he was signaling that he was ready to accept me into his home and life, to accept the relationship however I chose to define it.
♦◊♦
It’s December, and the Bay Area is soggy. I’m nervous. I park in front of his house at exactly 1 p.m. I don’t want him to worry if I’m late.
He has a truck and a tractor parked in his driveway. Although he owns some property in the neighborhood, he lives in a remodeled carriage house. Inside it’s small, but warm and clean. A cat wanders in from another room and then wanders out again.
On the car ride over I got choked up, not knowing what to expect, what to say, what to feel. But now, neither of us is visibly emotional. Maybe playing it cool is a genetic trait.
The radio is on, tuned to a fashionable station, probably for my benefit. Punk rock Christmas songs provide the soundtrack to our conversation. He is very talkative, but says that he is usually more quiet; the listener among his friends.
We take a walk around his neighborhood, looking at his properties. He tells me how, single-handedly, he cleaned up the neighborhood, formerly a high-crime area, filled with prostitutes and drug dealers. He is proud that he took matters into his own hands—videotaping drug deals, testifying in court. Now the area is much safer, and home to a growing number of artists.
I’m an English major so we talk about literature. He recites a verse from a Walt Whitman poem he is trying to memorize: “I too had been struck from the float held forever in solution.” We discuss its possible meanings while smoking cigars and drinking orange soda. The cat comes in through the front door and leaps up on the table. I’m a little allergic and I begin to sneeze. He shoos it away. We are relaxed and the conversation is casual; it feels more like two men meeting rather than a father and son. The conversation turns to women and booze.
♦◊♦
I ask him why he became a donor.
He was sitting in a coffee shop in Oakland and saw an advertisement in the back of a newspaper calling for sperm donors. He thought, why not? Nine out of 10 applicants were rejected for various reasons, but he passed. They asked him to stop smoking pot, so he did, and hasn’t since.
He made his decision seem so nonchalant, but the consequences are clearly a big deal to him. He is proud of his contribution. On his bookshelf is a framed photograph of his daughter, my half-sister. He is her donor, too. There are at least 10 other kids out there who have not contacted him. Ten potential sons and daughters. Ten potential brothers and sisters.
After a couple of hours I have to go. He walks me to the car and I leave with a “see ya later.” No hug. We go back to our lives.
♦◊♦
Jack is a very sweet man, thoughtful, and worried about making a good impression on me. I am grateful to him for what he did for my family, and thankful that I got the chance to meet him and initiate a relationship. It won’t be easy. There is no literature or wisdom from a previous generation that my mothers or I could use to prepare ourselves for this situation.
Right now I don’t see Jack as my father, but I can see him as a father figure. Everyone in my family, now that much larger, will need to adjust their notions of what family means.
I would like to meet my donor too. yet but I still have the hopes that he had
Your story is encouraging. I’ve been agonizing over whether it was fair to raise a child on my own without a father. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Jack!
Thank you for sharing your story with the rest of the world. Your mothers must be very proud of you.
I recently become a donor. The mother and I have exchanged details and I will have nothing to do with the kids upbringing. I’ve gone through a few ups and downs since doing it and the inspiration of your story helps me feel more positive about my decision. I’m still not totally sure if it was the right thing to do. Time will tell us with the next generation what is right and indeed my kid will meet me in 18years with a story as well as the mother letting the kid know it is donor conceived from a young… Read more »
well written and thoughtful.
Ben, wonderful story. So, I pose this question to you…have you ever considered being a donor, for a family, with a similar dynamic as yours?
Ben,
Your writing has deeply moved me. I am not only in awe of your writing but of who you have become as an adult. I hope that you will continue to write for all of us.
I am glad that my son will one day read what you have written.
Linda
Ben,
I want to thank you for sharing your story. I enjoyed reading part one and (along with a co-worker) awaited the second part. As a son who grew up with an absentee father and who has struggled with how to maintain a relationship with the man I called my “sperm donor” throughout my teen years.
Lately, as we’ve become facebook friends with my dad, I’ve wondered what I can expect …Thank you for sharing your journey as I struggle to define mine.
Ben, you have always chosen your words well. Thanks for telling your story: it becomes clear with each comment posted here that many people were waiting to hear it (and I’m sure there are thousands of readers who haven’t posted for each one who has). I am glad we met, and I am glad your moms told me to look here for your articles. Let’s stay in touch.
Your story is wonderful — an honest portrayal of the doubts and fears, walls and the breakdown of those walls along with the moments of intimacy that are part of every relationship. You are forging a new path, a bright and shining future for how these very unique (til now) relationships might work. Kudos for telling it so beautifully, and one of the best things was seeing the comments of family members and connection points.
Thank you.
Dear Ben, Thank you so much for contributing to the wisdom that will help guide the next generation of mothers and sons in similar situations. I thoroughly enjoyed your story and was filled with emotion when thinking about how your story might one day inform my family’s experience. You are such a bright and thoughtful young man. I know your mothers are very proud of you. Best wishes and I hope to read more of your work in the future. Heather One of 2 moms of a 9-month old adorable son born with the help of Fenway’s AI Program and… Read more »
Thank you so much so much for this story. I’m impressed by your caring and thoughtfulness and willingness to be so open to all that meeting Jack encompasses. Your ability to convey the subtle, complex, and mundane aspects of the journey is masterful. Look forward to reading more from you.
Ben,
After reading the first half I was longing for this half, and its great. I know your moms are proud of you, and I am too. It was certainly a journey of more than miles and weather. And it will continue.
Thanks for sharing this.
Right after Ben left, I remembered another stanza I had memorized. I could have recited this…
“Closer yet I approach you,
What thought you have of me now, I had as much as you-I laid in my stores in advance,
I considered long and seriously of you before you were born.
Who was to know what should come home to me?
Who knows but I am enjoying this?
Who knows, for all the distance, but I am as good as looking at you now, for all you cannot see me?
…but I probably would have teared up.
Number 35
Hi Ben, I am a good friend of Jack’s – and have been following along as Jack met both Daniele and you. You seem to be very insightful man, and have captured the goodness in Jack – Jack is a deeply caring person, one of the best human beings I know. While I don’t what the future holds, I can tell you that biologically, you come from very good heart-stock.
BTW – that’s the station Jack always listens to. 🙂
“There is no literature or wisdom from a previous generation that my mothers or I could use to prepare ourselves for this situation.”
Every situation is different, but sons losing contact with their fathers before birth is not a new theme:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rostam_and_Sohrab
Indeed, situations differ. Let’s hope that the story of Ben and Jack does not end as the ancient Persian story:
“After a very long and heavy wrestle, Rustam felt weak and afraid to spoil his reputation, so he stabbed his son in the heart.” (from wikipedia)
Ben,
Thank you for sharing this story.
I was a product of a high school relationship and met my father when I was 8. It’s complicated to find a place in your heart for that person, isn’t it? You sound like a wonderful young man. It takes a lot of emotional strength within in you and Jack to connect with each other. I’m sure there will be alot of positives in your relationship in the future. You both seem to want to know each other. That is a good thing.
Heather
Ben, I am feeling overwhelmed by Part 2 of your journey but I feel that I must comment in the moment.
Yes, our family will need to think about having your Jack in the mix! My feeling today is that it will just deepen our love for one another and be evermore grateful for what it did for our family.
Love,
Grandma Helen