You always hear about single women in their 30’s throwing in the towel and deciding to go it alone, to take the leap and have a child by themselves. Sometimes these women persuade a male friend to donate the necessary ingredients, but sometimes . . . sometimes they decide to use a sperm donor — a perfect stranger they know only through the numbers and very limited descriptions sent to them by the sperm bank eager for their business.
Apart from the fact that this goes against my religious principles, I wonder how exactly do you choose the father of your child out of a fourteen-page catalog? What are the criteria? How much do you want to know? And what, in your innermost heart, do you imagine about this person, when you think of them? More importantly, when the time comes due, what do you tell your child?
I’d seen her in the office kitchen but we’d never really spoken. I knew she worked in data processing, but that was it. Then one day I passed her in the hall and she was crying. I made her stop, asked her what was wrong. That’s when she told me she’d tried to kill someone the night before. She hadn’t wanted to kill him, it had just kinda happened.