For a few years now, I’ve kept a few vials of a stranger’s sperm on ice. Not just hanging out in my freezer next to the frozen peas, to be clear. They’re in a fancy cryobank and every six months a $285 charge pops up on my credit card statement for the privilege of storing them.
I’ve been justifying that hefty price tag as the cost of keeping my options open. My wife and I have a perfect little three-year-old girl and we’ve ummed and ahhed about having another one. (I won’t get into the specifics of assisted reproduction, but if you’re a same-sex female couple, then sperm is kinda key.) We’ve held on to our toddler’s baby things just in case a second one appears: our basement is full of boxes of old toys and clothes. It looks like we’re going to have to clear out and cancel that sperm storage, however – we’ve finally decided that we are firmly in the “one and done” club.
