Geraldine Hewitt knows
the details by heart: her biological father is "blond,
blue-eyed, five-foot-eight (174 centimetres), caucasian.
He has fair skin, average build, O-positive blood.
He donated sperm between 1982 and 1984, and his code
was J-A-X, like in Ajax."
She does not know his name, although the Royal Hospital
for Women in Randwick, Sydney, does. "Of course,
they won't give it to me," she says. "I
can sort of understand that. I suppose because he
donated anonymously, they have to respect that. But
I would really like to meet him, to observe him. And
I don't believe he wouldn't want to meet me. If I
was in his position, I would want to meet me, just
to see how I turned out."
He would likely be proud, since Ms Hewitt is quite
something. Although only 18, last year she conducted
a study of children conceived by donor sperm. She
did it as part of her HSC at East Hills Girls, not
realising that it would become the largest study of
its type in the world. Now she has been invited to
present her findings at an important international
conference on biotechnology in Toronto.
Ms Hewitt, who will travel to Canada later this week,
surveyed 50 people (the oldest was 57; the youngest
11), to find out what it meant to be the child of
donor sperm. She has known the details of her own
conception since she was five.
"Mum and Dad just don't have hang-ups about
it. Like, we tease my dad about it. I say: 'I'm glad
I haven't got your nose'."
Ms Hewitt is the eldest of three children, all of
whom were conceived using different donor sperm. "The
sperm from my donor was destroyed after the AIDS scare,"
Ms Hewitt said. "So they had to use a different
sperm for my brother. Then when they decided to have
another baby, they could have used that sperm again
but they decided that wasn't fair on me, so they said:
'No, let's go for the trifecta.'
"A couple of years after that, they heard about
ICSI (this involves the injection of a single sperm
into an egg, and would have enabled her father to
have a biological child with his wife) but he said
no, I've got three kids. Actually, what he said was,
he's already got my mobile phone bill to worry about,
without having more kids."
Despite her happy experience, Ms Hewitt said children
born of donor sperm "overwhelmingly have identity
issues".
"They wonder who their biological father is.
A lot said: 'I look in the mirror and I don't know
who I am.' And every single person said: 'Yes, I want
medical information.' "
However, in most states, children are not permitted
access to information until they are 18, and even
then, it may be of the bland, non-identifying type
that Ms Hewitt has.
"People are frightened that the kid is going
to knock on the door and try and muscle in on the
inheritance," she said.
"It's not like that. I want to meet my donor,
but not because I want another dad. I have a dad.
He's one of my best friends. But it's like not having
a proper history."
Ms Hewitt believes that parents who make use of donor
sperm should be open about it. "Tell, and tell
early, that's what I will say to the conference,"
she said.
"There was one person in my study who was 37
when he was told. He couldn't believe it. He always
thought he was the product of an affair, and that
is so not cool.
"You don't want to live your life believing
that. And most people in the study had an inkling,
so imagine growing up in an environment with deception
and secrecy."
The Royal Hospital for Women will try to match donors
with children born as a result of the procedure, provided
both parties agree.
However, many of their early files are incomplete.
They have searched the electoral roll for Ms Hewitt's
donor, without success.
This story was found at: http://www.theage.com.au
Please note: This story is no longer available on-line
but can be accessed via The Age archives.
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