Every night, Robert ices his testicles.
He takes two cold packs from the freezer and inserts them into pouches in his specially-designed Snowball boxer shorts – $59 a pair.
Robert swears by them. ‘I do about two hours of that a night,’ he says, ‘Icing increases your fertility over time.’
Clearly, it’s working.
Robert (not his real name) is a prolific sperm donor, one of the most successful offering his services to desperate women through Facebook.
He frequently posts pictures of positive pregnancy tests and of children born from his sperm, which he charges up to $300 to ship but less for ‘in-person’ donations.
In general, men become self-described super-donors after fathering eight to 12 children. Robert appears to have lost track of his precise number of offspring.
Until a couple of years ago, he says he offered ‘natural insemination’ or NI for free.
NI means sexual intercourse.
That’s where the world of black market sperm donation takes an alarming turn, as Washington DC author and journalist Valerie Bauman discovered when she decided, aged 38, to become a solo mother.
Some super donors insist they can maintain relationships with all of their children… even Ari ‘The Sperminator’ Nagel (above), who is 48 years old and has produced 142 children to date in countries across the globe with 15 more on the way.
Every night, Robert ices his testicles. He takes two cold packs from the freezer and inserts them into pouches in his specially-designed Snowball boxer shorts (above) – $59 a pair.
For Robert is one of countless men hawking their wares via this thriving unregulated genetic bazaar where it’s unclear exactly what goods and services are actually being exchanged.
The underground sperm trade seemingly exists to bypass conventional insemination and in vitro fertilization [IVF] services offered by mainstream healthcare providers.
Getting pregnant through multiple rounds of IVF can be ruinously expensive – reaching into the tens of thousands of dollars – even though success is far from guaranteed. Men offering sperm via Facebook, TikTok and even dating apps promise a much cheaper alternative.
But regulated clinics hold their donors to rigorous standards – enforcing genetic testing and ensuring, for example, that one man does not father squadrons of babies, particularly within a narrow geographical area.
In a tight-knit community, this increases the risk of accidental incest among ‘diblings’ or donor siblings. There’s no such guarantee with the internet. And, of course, conventional clinics don’t put women in contact with men who may not have their best interests in mind.
Bauman says she began lurking on Facebook sites and ‘cruising the Just A Baby app, which is essentially Tinder for getting knocked up’.
Just A Baby is popular with some men who have a pregnancy fetish or ‘preg-fet’. These donors expect to have full intercourse with women, with the crucial stipulation that sex continues during pregnancy. Others become obsessed with sex only when there is a chance that it will result in conception.
Washington DC author and journalist Valerie Bauman (above) investigated the black market of sperm donation when she decided, aged 38, to become a solo mother.
Just A Baby (the website picture above) is popular with some men who have a pregnancy fetish or ‘preg-fet’. These donors expect to have full intercourse with women, with the crucial stipulation that sex continues during pregnancy.
Perhaps, the most common compulsion among donors is for NI: on one Facebook group, 80 percent of men offering to provide sperm will only do it via ‘natural insemination’ sex. With some even resorting to trickery bordering on the criminal to fulfill their desires.
One aspiring mom, interviewed by Bauman, said she arranged to meet a donor at a motel. But when the man arrived he demanded sexual intercourse or nothing. The woman refused – and after spending her money on gas and her time on the road – was left at square one and no doubt shaken.
Facebook moderators supposedly police their groups, with the power to ban men who send unsolicited ‘dick pix’ or make sexual demands. But in reality, Bauman found, it is more likely to be the women who complain that get banned from the groups and not the sex offenders.
The alternative to NI is AI or artificial insemination.
If the sperm arrives by mail, it will usually be in a glass or plastic vial, with foam packaging, an ice pack to keep it cool, and a solution of ‘yolk buffer’ taken from chicken eggs, to feed the sperm with nutrients and keep it alive during transit.
AI-plus is insemination where the donor is present, masturbating into a cup before insemination, usually via a syringe. Sometimes, the woman manually stimulates the man to ejaculate.
And then there’s PI or partial insemination: the donor manipulates himself almost to the point of climax, then physically penetrates the woman.
Some recipients use a ‘soft cup’, a receptacle for the sperm that is then inserted into the vagina and left in place for 12 hours.
This is how Bauman first attempted to conceive – via cup, her back pressed against the wall of a public restroom.
Bauman says she was attracted to this option, not only for financial reasons but because it was easier to see what she was getting.
First, she created a spreadsheet of desirable physical characteristics: height, weight, eye color, even hair thickness and fullness of lips.
Some recipients use a ‘soft cup’, a receptacle for the sperm (above) that is then inserted into the vagina and left in place for 12 hours.
Then she realized that by going down the unlicensed route, she could learn more about the potential father of her child – meeting him in person, something not possible for sperm bank clients.
The whole freelance sperm donor movement first emerged on Craigslist and Yahoo message boards in the early 2000s. Since lockdown, it has burgeoned.
With many fertility clinics forced to close their doors in 2020, the more popular Facebook pages saw membership growing by thousands every month.
By August 2023, one site had 24,000 members – up by 175 percent. That trend continued as word spread that social media was a far more affordable option.
‘Another upside to a freelance sperm donor,’ says Bauman, ‘is that you’re getting fresh sperm, which lives up to five days in a woman’s body. By comparison, frozen sperm from a bank only lives in a woman’s body for up to 24 hours, making timing around ovulation incredibly critical.’
After numerous attempts, Bauman did eventually become pregnant, via IVF, but suffered a miscarriage early in the pregnancy.
But she describes how one African-American woman named Latrice got pregnant with a ‘golden ticket’ – success at the first attempt.
She writes that Latrice’s wife inseminated her using ‘a lube-launcher’ or syringe in the back of their Chevy Equinox – her head on a pillow, her legs in the air, her toes squished against the ceiling.
The couple had travelled an hour from their Michigan home to pick up a cup of sperm from Ron, a super donor who estimates he’s produced 65 children and has more on the way.
For three days in a row, they had a conception routine with Ron’s help.
After picking up the sperm in a cup inside a paper bag from Ron’s front door, they would drive a short distance before pulling into a quiet hospital parking lot.
Then Latrice lay down and scooted her 5’1′ frame as far into the backseat as she could.
Her wife crouched on the edge of the opposite seat, her legs dangling out of the partially open rear door. It only took a few seconds for the couple to complete the backseat DIY insemination.
Some super donors insist they can maintain relationships with all of their children… even Ari Nagel (above), who is 48 years old and has produced 142 children to date in countries across the globe with 15 more on the way.
‘I kept my legs out for 15 minutes, then we drove off and went about our day,’ Latrice said.
Some super donors insist they can maintain relationships with all of their children… even Ari Nagel, who is 48 years old and has produced 142 children to date in countries across the globe with 15 more on the way.
‘Sometimes I went to other countries and I actually had to marry the woman so we were able to go to the fertility clinic,’ Ari said. ‘It was very tedious.’
He admitted that his motives at first were selfish – he wanted lots of children but could not afford to raise them on his salary as a college professor.
Inconceivable: Super sperm donors, off-the-grid insemination, and unconventional family planning, by Valerie Bauman, is published by Union Square
Now he claims his drive is more altruistic, that he is helping women fulfill a deep emotional need.
Robert, the guy with ice in his underpants, agrees: he is a former serviceman and believes that ex-military donors are more likely to be impelled by a sense of duty and a need to help others.
‘In this day and age,’ he says, ‘there’s a lot more same-sex couples out there and the one thing missing is they want to have a kid together. ‘So I’m willing to help.’
Of course, when it comes to children, there’s a lot of ‘help’ needed after conception as well – and often these donors aren’t willing to provide those services.
Home DNA testing kits changed all that.
For many years, men who offered to get women pregnant – either by artificial insemination or full sex – thought they could never be traced by their children.
Ari Nagle, the college professor with 142 children, now finds he has to help pay for the upkeep of nine children from five different mothers. More than half of his salary goes on child support.
One woman recently contacted him to plead for help towards a $250 hospital bill. Others have taken him to court for much more.
‘It doesn’t surprise me that some women went back on the word,’ he says. ‘What’s more surprising is that out of 70 mothers, only five of them sued.’
Inconceivable: Super sperm donors, off-the-grid insemination, and unconventional family planning, by Valerie Bauman, is published by Union Square
