Donor reveal?

Marcel at two weeks

Marcel has seen a picture of his donor.

I could write about 10,000 words here, but I’m not ready to. I just want my readers to know that this book just got better. His donor is a real person. His donor has a face. Marcel named him too. He named him: Tree.

His most important question? Does he like ice cream and cheese too?

And, Do baby whales have donors or daddies? Of course that was followed by-Is my donor a daddy? How did you handle that Mama C? It went something like this; “Just like Sammy has a birth father who helped bring him into the world, you have a donor who helped create you. A donor is not a daddy. A donor is like a birth father…

That night he came running into a family gathering asking if they wanted to see a picture of his donor?

His grandfather thought he said donut.

Of course this prompted a very important discussion with my family later that night. As soon as the boys were in bed, I joined my family in the other room, and told them that I had some very important information to share with them about Marcel. Information that I needed them to hear at this very instant.  I knew that Marcel’s joy in his new discovery depended on everyone’s ability to share and celebrate with him.

A discussion that for four years has been just underneath my skin at all times.  A story that I have not known how to tell my family, to share here on the blog, or to my most trusted friends. When Marcel was a baby, I could keep the story inside, or so I thought. It seemed so simple at first…

Then Marcel needed more and more information, and I knew the time had come to look inside my heart, my understanding of our agreement, and to decide how and when and how much to reveal.  I can tell you that the word “known” is now formally attached to the word “donor” in our lexicon. I can tell you that Marcel understands that bringing him into the world was a decision that two people made with intention and love. I can tell you that he grew two inches the moment he held that picture in his hand, and I became about five tons lighter.

In the interest of transparency in the new year, and the absence of secrets it feels so empowering to share that Marcel has some new information which allowa him to land more firmly in his own story of who he is. More to come…


  1. Wow. I’ve been wondering (but too Canadian to ask) how this all occured with Marcel (btw nice head of hair for 2 weeks!) and how you would handle it in the future. Now I get to find out!

    Honestly, isn’t it just the BEST to have all the information you need for you children.


    You’re the best!

    • I love your Canadian-ness (?). I am certainly feeling great about where we are today. And yes, I have a great deal of information, and years of angst that I just let out of there cage to fly away home too.
      Thanks for chiming in too.

  2. As my people say, Mazel Tov. Congratulations kinda covers it, but not really.

    I wish I had an hour to reply to this one. I’ve been out of touch and I have missed– in touch-ness. But for now–I love– I mean I LOVE this post. I love when a parent acts with complete integrity making no excuses for doing otherwise– even when it is scary, uncomfortable, painful or just plain awkward. I’m not implying it was necessarily any of the afore-mentioned for you. But you being so honest with him makes me hopeful. It makes me less lonely. It makes me relax and sleep better at night. It makes me smile. Much love and congratulations to you and to him and to Sammy too.

    I did laugh out loud– hard, just now, as I read the part where his grandfather thought he said “donut”. Once when my nephew was young (4) and daughter even younger-(1)- he asked me, in my daughter’s presence, if she had a padre?? We all sucked in our breath a little. I started a long explanation about everyone in the world being made by a mother and a father but different families being different… it went on for awhile until my four year old nephew said, “Um, Aunt Laura– I thought “padre” meant dog… ” Oops. Good to know what someone is actually asking before you make the big speeches. xo Laura

    • Funny it does feel mazeltov worthy! Your story CRACKED me up. Ah yes, that pesky little language thing. Funny how the word donut might be WHY I ended up spilling! I needed to protect Marcel from any shame or feelings of not being heard with is new information. My fam did handle everything beautifully btw. And they all looked at the picture and admired so sweetly.

  3. There is something about this that is too beautiful for words. Its almost like Marcel discovered the missing link in the chain. I thought about how this may bring he and Sammy even closer together, because now they share something else. They’ve always shared it, but now “they” know they share it. The “it” is half of the way in which they became a part of your life. Like I said, too beautiful for words, so my words are probably making all kinds of non-sense right now, lol.

  4. i have been writing a blog entry myself tonight, the subject roughly being- sharing your most vulnerable feelings, and i was feeling stuck so i took a break to read your blog- as i do from time to time.

    this post struck me, in the story itself and in how you told it. and i just wanted to say, thank you for your honesty.

  5. Ok, so I just published a post on my blog that was tough for me to write. It was how I disagree with telling my boys that they don’t have a dad even though they were conceived with anonymous donor sperm. A reader commented and referred me back to your blog (I don’t think she knew that I was already a subscriber–doesn’t that sound better than “follower”?) So I searched your older posts and enjoyed them (as usual). My conversations with my boys are only beginning and my lexicon is a work in progress. I do not want to give them a false idea of how they came to be or false hope of one day meeting a father-figure. I just want them to know that when it all comes down to the most important stuff, they are like everyone else. Even though everyone is different.

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