Showing posts with label sperm donor father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sperm donor father. Show all posts
Thursday, 19 September 2013
Seeking out my anonymous sperm donor father
I did once seek out my biological father.
A front-page article had hit The New York Times, and I was suddenly spammed by 6,000 well-meaning friends emailing me about DonorSiblingRegistry.com, a website that helps people track down sperm-donor fathers and potential siblings.
Back when I was conceived, my moms chose to keep their sperm donor anonymous, in both directions, feeling that doing so best protected the family they were starting, in particular R's position as the non-biological mother.
Nowadays there are scores of people reeling in their genetic line on the fishing wire of the Internet, trying to fill in the gaps of parental choices (sound as they may have been).
I was intrigued. Suddenly my natural interest in finding my father intersected with the tools to maybe do so. After all, 6,000 friends spamming your inbox about a new website can't be wrong!
I knew that my window of opportunity was closing with each year. My sperm-donor father, if he hadn't already been hit by a falling piano or bitten by a venomous snake while hiking, could well be dying of more natural causes.
I was also propelled by a haunting scene: an image of my grandchildren, sitting out in front of me on an old person's shaggy carpet, asking, "So, did you, like, make any effort whatsoever to find your dad?" And my disappointing response: "Well, listen, I was busy. Never got around to it. Here, have a cookie and leave me alone." I would imagine the grandkids, all three of them, repulsed by me and my laziness. I had made not one iota of effort not so much to bring them a genetic match of a great-grandfather but at least to make my own life story exciting by way of a Maury-style dad hunt: paternity tests, cussing, muffin tops, everything. I thought maybe I owed them this.
I signed up for the website and put in lots of details about myself and the exceedingly minimal info I had on my donor father and the fertility clinic and hospital that my moms had used.
I then rather ashamedly told my parents that I was interested in doing this search. This brought up embarrassment for me and initial discomfort for R, who had spent the parenting portion of her life building a parental identity from scratch, not as a biological mother, not as a father, but as a "co-mother," as she was called on my school forms. I would cross out "father" and write "co-mother," and suddenly my emergency contact form would be as political as a burning flag.
We talked candidly about how this search should in no way threaten us as a family, and about how my desire to at least casually attempt to find my father was something I needed to do for myself and certainly not as an act of destruction or rebellion.
Despite their initial apprehension, my parents soon rallied around this project (as is their custom with projects of mine). It seemed also that my moms had had their own latent curiosity about this mystical sperm donor, and that I was giving them permission to air it.
The search quickly yielded a sweet, nerdy man, a member of MENSA, whose donation timeline and basic background (Jew) fit mine.
If you can believe this, my family and I actually sat down with him at a brunch place in Greenwich Village called Jane. We liked him. We talked about all sorts of things while silently puzzling over his forehead, his nose, his shoulders, to see if, as a man, I might be him.
He was so nebbishy, the sort of guy who practically begs to be shoved into a locker. He kind of seemed like he needed a family.
The Maury moment came when he agreed to a paternity test. The days waiting for the results were fraught and exciting. When the results came and he turned out to be just some guy, I realized how deeply entrenched we'd all become in this fantasy. I had let myself believe that this itch could be quickly scratched, failing to see it for what it was: a needle in a haystack and, more specifically, a needle that, very likely, actively didn't want to be found.
But on the heels of defeat, I felt peaceful. I had tried. Now my grandkids could shove it. I had made one nominal attempt, and it had been a rather gargantuan expenditure of emotional energy for my moms and me. I had wrestled with the sense that by taking the bait to go on this search, I was delegitimizing my family. Admitting collectively that we were curious, all three of us, was a weight off my shoulders.
Article: 19th September 2013 www.huffingtonpost.com
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Donor conceived story 'My dad was a sperm donor'
Sperm donation is often seen as a gift to thousands of infertile couples, who find joy and completion in a child that might not otherwise exist. But their children sometimes find that joy bound with longing, loss and lifelong confusion about their true identity.
Narelle Grech knows the details by heart: his code name is T5. He is brown-haired and brown-eyed with O-positive blood type.
He's probably in his 50s and attended university. He stands about 173 centimetres. His surname starts with T and he is likely to be Maltese.
These scant points are Narelle's only information about the man who is her biological father, a man who has occupied Narelle's thoughts and deeds for much of the past 13 years since her parents revealed that she was conceived with sperm donated to a fertility clinic.
"When I was a teenager, I carried that information around with me on a scrap of paper, the way other kids carried a photograph of their dad," she says. "It was my way of keeping a link to him because I had nothing else."
Narelle remembers her parents sitting her and her older sister down at the family dining table one Sunday afternoon, her mother telling her that she was conceived with the help of another man's sperm and how much they loved her.
At first, she laughed it off, thinking it was cool to be different. "But, later that night, I was washing my face in front of the bathroom mirror and I realised that everything I thought I knew about myself had vanished," she says.
"The man I thought was my father wasn't and half the family I thought was mine wasn't related to me. I started crying uncontrollably. Almost from that moment, I wanted to find him. Not because I wanted another father, but because I wanted to discover who I really am."
Narelle is one of the hidden generations of Australians given life by our ever-expanding technological and scientific expertise. She was born in 1983, at a time when donor conception was still in its relative infancy and donors gave their sperm anonymously. She is one of hundreds of people Australia-wide who are today searching for their biological antecedents, but may never find them.
At the heart of the dilemma is a delicate balancing act between the competing rights of offspring and their donors. Offspring feel they have an emotional and medical right to know their biological history. Yet, while many donors are happy to be contacted, others gave their genetic material in a spirit of goodwill to childless families, in the belief that their identities would remain anonymous.
Rightly or wrongly, they fear a knock on the door might tear their families apart or lead to claims on their estates. There is another even more pressing reason why Narelle needs to find her biological father.
In May, doctors diagnosed her with advanced bowel cancer, which doctors say may kill her within the next five years. Her cancer, discovered after she suffered severe abdominal pain one morning, is the most aggressive kind and, though she is just 28, is already classified at stage four.
"The galling thing is that doctors suspect the cancer is genetically linked," says Narelle. "My mother's family has no history of cancer. The possibility is that I've inherited a genetic predisposition from my biological father." The diagnosis is a nightmare come true for Narelle. For more than a decade, she has sought, without success, the identity of the man who helped her parents conceive her.
While that has eluded her, she has discovered something else, something that now keeps her awake at night. She has, she says, eight half-siblings scattered around Victoria and possibly Australia, all created with her biological father's sperm. "I have eight brothers and sisters out there who I've never met, but who all share some of the same genetic building blocks as me and that terrifies me," she says, curled up on a sofa in her suburban Melbourne home.
"Each one may be a genetic time bomb waiting to go off and it's probable that they don't know anything about it." An unfortunate combination of disparate, sometimes contradictory laws across state boundaries, poor record-keeping and bureaucratic inertia means that Narelle and others like her may never find the answers they are seeking so desperately.
Article: 5th October Australian Women's weekly aww.ninemsn.com.au
This story shows how important it is for donor conceived to be able to receive more information about their donor, something which Pride Angel strongly supports. If you are considering conceiving using donor sperm or eggs, why not think about the option of finding a known donor through a connection service. This will not only enable you to discover more details about the donor such as their characteristics and personality, but most importantly you will have more information to pass onto your child and even have the ability of maintaining a level of contact, between donor and child.
Narelle Grech knows the details by heart: his code name is T5. He is brown-haired and brown-eyed with O-positive blood type.
He's probably in his 50s and attended university. He stands about 173 centimetres. His surname starts with T and he is likely to be Maltese.
These scant points are Narelle's only information about the man who is her biological father, a man who has occupied Narelle's thoughts and deeds for much of the past 13 years since her parents revealed that she was conceived with sperm donated to a fertility clinic.
"When I was a teenager, I carried that information around with me on a scrap of paper, the way other kids carried a photograph of their dad," she says. "It was my way of keeping a link to him because I had nothing else."
Narelle remembers her parents sitting her and her older sister down at the family dining table one Sunday afternoon, her mother telling her that she was conceived with the help of another man's sperm and how much they loved her.
At first, she laughed it off, thinking it was cool to be different. "But, later that night, I was washing my face in front of the bathroom mirror and I realised that everything I thought I knew about myself had vanished," she says.
"The man I thought was my father wasn't and half the family I thought was mine wasn't related to me. I started crying uncontrollably. Almost from that moment, I wanted to find him. Not because I wanted another father, but because I wanted to discover who I really am."
Narelle is one of the hidden generations of Australians given life by our ever-expanding technological and scientific expertise. She was born in 1983, at a time when donor conception was still in its relative infancy and donors gave their sperm anonymously. She is one of hundreds of people Australia-wide who are today searching for their biological antecedents, but may never find them.
At the heart of the dilemma is a delicate balancing act between the competing rights of offspring and their donors. Offspring feel they have an emotional and medical right to know their biological history. Yet, while many donors are happy to be contacted, others gave their genetic material in a spirit of goodwill to childless families, in the belief that their identities would remain anonymous.
Rightly or wrongly, they fear a knock on the door might tear their families apart or lead to claims on their estates. There is another even more pressing reason why Narelle needs to find her biological father.
In May, doctors diagnosed her with advanced bowel cancer, which doctors say may kill her within the next five years. Her cancer, discovered after she suffered severe abdominal pain one morning, is the most aggressive kind and, though she is just 28, is already classified at stage four.
"The galling thing is that doctors suspect the cancer is genetically linked," says Narelle. "My mother's family has no history of cancer. The possibility is that I've inherited a genetic predisposition from my biological father." The diagnosis is a nightmare come true for Narelle. For more than a decade, she has sought, without success, the identity of the man who helped her parents conceive her.
While that has eluded her, she has discovered something else, something that now keeps her awake at night. She has, she says, eight half-siblings scattered around Victoria and possibly Australia, all created with her biological father's sperm. "I have eight brothers and sisters out there who I've never met, but who all share some of the same genetic building blocks as me and that terrifies me," she says, curled up on a sofa in her suburban Melbourne home.
"Each one may be a genetic time bomb waiting to go off and it's probable that they don't know anything about it." An unfortunate combination of disparate, sometimes contradictory laws across state boundaries, poor record-keeping and bureaucratic inertia means that Narelle and others like her may never find the answers they are seeking so desperately.
Article: 5th October Australian Women's weekly aww.ninemsn.com.au
This story shows how important it is for donor conceived to be able to receive more information about their donor, something which Pride Angel strongly supports. If you are considering conceiving using donor sperm or eggs, why not think about the option of finding a known donor through a connection service. This will not only enable you to discover more details about the donor such as their characteristics and personality, but most importantly you will have more information to pass onto your child and even have the ability of maintaining a level of contact, between donor and child.
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Sperm donors think 'father', while egg donors don't think 'mother'
The increasing number of children born through sperm donation, and the fact that many of those children are just now reaching adulthood, is leading to a revolution in the way we define families. A Tuesday Post story examined how children conceived this way are beginning to search for the donors. (University of California Press)
But what do the donors think? How much responsibility do they feel? A new book is providing some answers. “Sex Cells: The Medical Market for Eggs and Sperm,” (University of California Press, September 2011) by Rene Almeling, an Assistant Professor of Sociology at Yale University, provides insights into the relationships between donors, recipients and the children conceived. Over fours years, Almeling studied six sperm banks and interviewed their founders and staffers. She also interviewed 40 donors.
One of the fascinating aspects of Almeling’s research is that she explored how donors, both egg and sperm, perceive their own roles in a family. She found that, despite conventional wisdom, it’s the male donors who feel a stronger connection.
“One of the most surprising things I found was that sperm donors have a straightforward view of themselves as fathers, while egg donors insist they are not mothers,” she wrote me in an e-mail conversation we had about her book. She went on to suggest some explanations for the difference:
“My research points to a long-standing cultural assumption in which the male contribution to reproduction is seen as primary. Indeed, the ancient Greeks, who thought of men as providing the generative seed and women the nurturing soil, would recognize a modern-day incarnation of this formulation in fertility agencies. Sperm donors think of their seed as essential to the child, down playing the role of the recipients. Egg donors insist that their contribution is “just an egg,” pointing to the recipient as the mother, because she is the one who nurtures by carrying the pregnancy, giving birth and raising the child.
Here’s more from Washington Posts Q&A:
Q. With male donors seeing themselves as “fathers,” does it follow that they might be more open to establishing relationships with the children that are created from their sperm?
Almeling: No. In fact, I found that both sperm donors and egg donors were generally willing to meet children who requested it, or at the very least, to provide updated medical information. It is just that the men couched those feelings of responsibility in terms of being a parent, whereas the women did not.
Q. As more and more families are formed using donors, what sorts of ramifications might these perspectives have for the families involved and our cultural definition of family?
Almeling: Reproductive technologies have made it possible to partition motherhood into different elements. The woman who provides the egg, the woman who carries the pregnancy, and the woman who raises the child can each lay claim (or not) to the label of “mother.”
However, in our culture, it is still the case that providing the sperm makes one a father. As more and more families are created through what is called “assisted reproduction,” it will be interesting to see whether definitions of paternity emerge that are as flexible as our definitions of maternity.
Q. Given your research, do you think donors should have more rights? More information? More guidance?
Almeling:Based on my interviews with donors, one of the recommendations I would make is that men be encouraged to seriously consider the ramifications of sperm donation.
Most egg agencies require that women undergo psychological screening, with one of the primary goals being to ensure that they have thought through the prospect of biological offspring. Sperm banks do not require this kind of screening. They are content to let men focus on short-term financial gain rather than long-term implications, and I think it does sperm donors a disservice.
In terms of egg donation, there is a critical lack of data about the long-term effects of taking fertility medications. The egg agencies where I did research did a good job of informing women of risks associated with egg donation, but for women’s consent to be truly informed, those clinical studies need to be done.
Article: 28.09.11 www.washingtonpost.com by Janice D'Arcy
But what do the donors think? How much responsibility do they feel? A new book is providing some answers. “Sex Cells: The Medical Market for Eggs and Sperm,” (University of California Press, September 2011) by Rene Almeling, an Assistant Professor of Sociology at Yale University, provides insights into the relationships between donors, recipients and the children conceived. Over fours years, Almeling studied six sperm banks and interviewed their founders and staffers. She also interviewed 40 donors.
One of the fascinating aspects of Almeling’s research is that she explored how donors, both egg and sperm, perceive their own roles in a family. She found that, despite conventional wisdom, it’s the male donors who feel a stronger connection.
“One of the most surprising things I found was that sperm donors have a straightforward view of themselves as fathers, while egg donors insist they are not mothers,” she wrote me in an e-mail conversation we had about her book. She went on to suggest some explanations for the difference:
“My research points to a long-standing cultural assumption in which the male contribution to reproduction is seen as primary. Indeed, the ancient Greeks, who thought of men as providing the generative seed and women the nurturing soil, would recognize a modern-day incarnation of this formulation in fertility agencies. Sperm donors think of their seed as essential to the child, down playing the role of the recipients. Egg donors insist that their contribution is “just an egg,” pointing to the recipient as the mother, because she is the one who nurtures by carrying the pregnancy, giving birth and raising the child.
Here’s more from Washington Posts Q&A:
Q. With male donors seeing themselves as “fathers,” does it follow that they might be more open to establishing relationships with the children that are created from their sperm?
Almeling: No. In fact, I found that both sperm donors and egg donors were generally willing to meet children who requested it, or at the very least, to provide updated medical information. It is just that the men couched those feelings of responsibility in terms of being a parent, whereas the women did not.
Q. As more and more families are formed using donors, what sorts of ramifications might these perspectives have for the families involved and our cultural definition of family?
Almeling: Reproductive technologies have made it possible to partition motherhood into different elements. The woman who provides the egg, the woman who carries the pregnancy, and the woman who raises the child can each lay claim (or not) to the label of “mother.”
However, in our culture, it is still the case that providing the sperm makes one a father. As more and more families are created through what is called “assisted reproduction,” it will be interesting to see whether definitions of paternity emerge that are as flexible as our definitions of maternity.
Q. Given your research, do you think donors should have more rights? More information? More guidance?
Almeling:Based on my interviews with donors, one of the recommendations I would make is that men be encouraged to seriously consider the ramifications of sperm donation.
Most egg agencies require that women undergo psychological screening, with one of the primary goals being to ensure that they have thought through the prospect of biological offspring. Sperm banks do not require this kind of screening. They are content to let men focus on short-term financial gain rather than long-term implications, and I think it does sperm donors a disservice.
In terms of egg donation, there is a critical lack of data about the long-term effects of taking fertility medications. The egg agencies where I did research did a good job of informing women of risks associated with egg donation, but for women’s consent to be truly informed, those clinical studies need to be done.
Article: 28.09.11 www.washingtonpost.com by Janice D'Arcy
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
Mother wishes to identify the father of her IVF son, conceived with a sperm donor
A single mother from north London is trying to lift the anonymity of her child's sperm donor.
The woman has been told her six-year-old son will never be able to trace his father because the child was conceived at a Spanish clinic. The case is understood to be the first of its kind and experts say it highlights the pitfalls for those who undergo IVF abroad.
It also has led to renewed calls for a system of cross-border regulations over fertility treatment. Under British law, children conceived in Britain are entitled to obtain the name and address of their biological donor when they reach 18. These details are held on a database run by the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority. But the HFEA has said it is powerless to act.
The mother, who is Jewish, used an English donor who was also Jewish and he provided sperm through the London Women's Clinic. But the clinic did not have any donor eggs, so the woman transported the sperm to a clinic in Marbella where her son was conceived in December 2005. This meant none of the sperm donor's identifiable details could be placed on the authority's database.
In a statement, the woman said she hoped "with all my heart" that the father of her child would still want to meet him. She said: "I still hope that one day, through my son, I may get to thank him after all for giving me this wonderful child, who brings such joy to so many people."
The woman has been told her six-year-old son will never be able to trace his father because the child was conceived at a Spanish clinic. The case is understood to be the first of its kind and experts say it highlights the pitfalls for those who undergo IVF abroad.
It also has led to renewed calls for a system of cross-border regulations over fertility treatment. Under British law, children conceived in Britain are entitled to obtain the name and address of their biological donor when they reach 18. These details are held on a database run by the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority. But the HFEA has said it is powerless to act.
The mother, who is Jewish, used an English donor who was also Jewish and he provided sperm through the London Women's Clinic. But the clinic did not have any donor eggs, so the woman transported the sperm to a clinic in Marbella where her son was conceived in December 2005. This meant none of the sperm donor's identifiable details could be placed on the authority's database.
In a statement, the woman said she hoped "with all my heart" that the father of her child would still want to meet him. She said: "I still hope that one day, through my son, I may get to thank him after all for giving me this wonderful child, who brings such joy to so many people."
Saturday, 2 July 2011
Donor Unknown: Film and DVD review
BEING a child is hard enough. Being a child conceived via sperm donation can be even more difficult.
If the child discovers they were born this way, is it easy enough to carry on regardless or will they go down the road of finding out who their real father is?
It's a dilemma faced by JoEllen Marsh which turned her life around in more ways than one. Donor Unknown follows JoEllen as she reveals everything she went through meeting her half-siblings and, ultimately, her donor father, Jeffrey.
It all happens thanks to website the Donor Sibling Registry - it brought JoEllen and Danielle together.
But a New York Times article about the girls sparked an online search that resulted in dozens of 20-somethings coming forward because they were conceived from the same man.
Describing her first meeting with half-sister Danielle as 'weird', this is a heart-warming look at a subject rarely discussed in public.
In it we meet JoEllen and her half-brothers-and-sisters as well as 'Donor 150' aka the sperm donor, Jeffrey.
Jeffrey likens himself to a 'fringe monkey' - someone who lives on the fringes of society, protecting others from danger. He loves dogs and pigeons and lives in a rusty old camper van on Venice Beach.
A self-confessed hippy who pursued acting and modelling in his younger years, his decision to donate sperm was the result of being chatted up by a woman looking for a donor.
It brings a smile to the face listening to the 'family' talk about the similar traits they share - piano playing, same large toes, the way they push hair behind their ears.
Geoffrey's views on life and government would be considered those of a conspiracy theorist, but in truth, he is harmless.
In the end, Donor Unknown is a light-hearted look at a side of life rarely revealed and avoids focusing on the negatives and firmly shows there can be a positive outcome.
If you missed the showing of Donor Unknown 28th June on More4, why not watch the DVD, due out 11th July.
Film review: by Garry McConnachie 29th June 2011 www.dailyrecord.co.uk
Read more about known sperm and egg donation and donors keeping in touch with their children at www.prideangel.com
If the child discovers they were born this way, is it easy enough to carry on regardless or will they go down the road of finding out who their real father is?
It's a dilemma faced by JoEllen Marsh which turned her life around in more ways than one. Donor Unknown follows JoEllen as she reveals everything she went through meeting her half-siblings and, ultimately, her donor father, Jeffrey.
It all happens thanks to website the Donor Sibling Registry - it brought JoEllen and Danielle together.
But a New York Times article about the girls sparked an online search that resulted in dozens of 20-somethings coming forward because they were conceived from the same man.
Describing her first meeting with half-sister Danielle as 'weird', this is a heart-warming look at a subject rarely discussed in public.
In it we meet JoEllen and her half-brothers-and-sisters as well as 'Donor 150' aka the sperm donor, Jeffrey.
Jeffrey likens himself to a 'fringe monkey' - someone who lives on the fringes of society, protecting others from danger. He loves dogs and pigeons and lives in a rusty old camper van on Venice Beach.
A self-confessed hippy who pursued acting and modelling in his younger years, his decision to donate sperm was the result of being chatted up by a woman looking for a donor.
It brings a smile to the face listening to the 'family' talk about the similar traits they share - piano playing, same large toes, the way they push hair behind their ears.
Geoffrey's views on life and government would be considered those of a conspiracy theorist, but in truth, he is harmless.
In the end, Donor Unknown is a light-hearted look at a side of life rarely revealed and avoids focusing on the negatives and firmly shows there can be a positive outcome.
If you missed the showing of Donor Unknown 28th June on More4, why not watch the DVD, due out 11th July.
Film review: by Garry McConnachie 29th June 2011 www.dailyrecord.co.uk
Read more about known sperm and egg donation and donors keeping in touch with their children at www.prideangel.com
Friday, 28 January 2011
Woman goes to court to try and find her sperm donor's identity
A WOMAN conceived with the help of a sperm donor has taken a rare legal step to find out the identity of her biological father.
In a case that could affect thousands of donor-conceived families, Kimberley Springfield has asked a tribunal to overturn a bureaucratic decision that no action be taken to help identify the donor.
Her case comes as state and federal parliamentary inquiries due to report in the coming months consider donor conception and the rights of donor-conceived people to gain access to identifying information about their donors.
In submissions to both inquiries, Ms Springfield, 26, whose sister and at least four half siblings were conceived with her biological father's sperm, said she had suffered mentally, emotionally and physically from being denied knowledge about her family since she found out how she was conceived five years ago.
''I cannot fathom going through life never knowing where I have come from, my ancestry and my identity,'' Ms Springfield wrote. ''Every day I look at the faces of people around me and wonder: 'Could you be my father, my half sister, my half brother, my grandparent?'''
Ms Springfield was born before 1988, when sperm donors were completely anonymous. The identity of her donor is not recorded on the voluntary register of donors kept by the Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages.
In Victoria, where Ms Springfield lives, those born between 1988 and 1997 have the right to access information about the donor if the donor agrees and only those born after 1997 have an absolute right to information.
Ms Springfield has asked the Victorian Civil and Administrative Tribunal to review the registrar's decision to deny her recent request that they seek the donor's identity from a medical institution and then write to the donor advocating the purpose and benefit of the voluntary register.
Peter Hanks, QC, for Ms Springfield, said the Assisted Reproductive Treatment Act stated that ''the registrar may from time to time publicise the establishment and purpose of the voluntary register''. He argued this provision needed to be read together with a part of the Births, Deaths and Marriages Act dealing with the registrar's general functions.
To read more go to http://bit.ly/fgfL1x
In a case that could affect thousands of donor-conceived families, Kimberley Springfield has asked a tribunal to overturn a bureaucratic decision that no action be taken to help identify the donor.
Her case comes as state and federal parliamentary inquiries due to report in the coming months consider donor conception and the rights of donor-conceived people to gain access to identifying information about their donors.
In submissions to both inquiries, Ms Springfield, 26, whose sister and at least four half siblings were conceived with her biological father's sperm, said she had suffered mentally, emotionally and physically from being denied knowledge about her family since she found out how she was conceived five years ago.
''I cannot fathom going through life never knowing where I have come from, my ancestry and my identity,'' Ms Springfield wrote. ''Every day I look at the faces of people around me and wonder: 'Could you be my father, my half sister, my half brother, my grandparent?'''
Ms Springfield was born before 1988, when sperm donors were completely anonymous. The identity of her donor is not recorded on the voluntary register of donors kept by the Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages.
In Victoria, where Ms Springfield lives, those born between 1988 and 1997 have the right to access information about the donor if the donor agrees and only those born after 1997 have an absolute right to information.
Ms Springfield has asked the Victorian Civil and Administrative Tribunal to review the registrar's decision to deny her recent request that they seek the donor's identity from a medical institution and then write to the donor advocating the purpose and benefit of the voluntary register.
Peter Hanks, QC, for Ms Springfield, said the Assisted Reproductive Treatment Act stated that ''the registrar may from time to time publicise the establishment and purpose of the voluntary register''. He argued this provision needed to be read together with a part of the Births, Deaths and Marriages Act dealing with the registrar's general functions.
To read more go to http://bit.ly/fgfL1x
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