Two Anonymous Moms
Their kids are great, but don't call them "superbabies."

In the past few days, Slate has received two anonymous messages from women who say they had children from the repository. One came by e-mail to me. The other was posted in "The Fray."

First of all—because I know readers are worried about charlatans—both mothers sound legit. Mother 1 includes several corroborating details—most notably the fact that Robert Graham's office manager was named Dora. The second mother includes fewer details, but the letter has an air of credibility to it.

What struck me about both mails, and what has struck me about all my contacts with mothers so far, is the rather healthy, almost skeptical attitude that the mothers have about the repository's goals. Neither of these mothers was interested in bearing "superbabies." They just wanted to give themselves a better chance of having a healthy, intelligent child. They are proud of their children's achievements, but they certainly don't seem obsessed with their genes. Neither mother is a fanatic on the nature-nurture question: They credit their own parental involvement with their kids' success.

I would like to hear more from both mothers. Do they think they place too many demands on their children? Mother 1 says she doesn't think about her kids being "special." Is that true? How about the kids—do they feel that their parents' expectations are too high? Does the son of Mother 2 feel extra pressure now that he knows his biological origins? Mother 1 says she and her husband haven't told her kids about their origins: Why not? What issues concern them? Do most parents tell their kids or not? Should they?

If either anonymous mother—or any other parent, child, or donor connected to the repository—wants to help answer those questions, Slate would love to hear from you. You can share your story anonymously by e-mailing me at or calling me at (202) 862-4889.

Anonymous Mother 1

I am not sure I should be sending you this email. My husband doesn't want me to email you because he thinks that this will end up being a "hit piece" and we will be treated badly. I think that I need to speak up in defense of the Repository, my decision, and my family. Please do not try to track us down for your own curiosity or for this Slate story.

I am the mother of two children (a boy born in 1988 and a girl born in 1991) from the Repository for Germinal Choice donor Red #46. My husband and I celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary this year and we will toast both the Repository & Red #46 at the renewal of our vows.

When I first started talking with the Repository and Dr. Graham's assistant, Dora, I was very skeptical about their motives and goals. At that time, 1985-1986 there was a woman who had gone "public" and she was a total California flake. She was unmarried and had wanted to produce a perfect child (she had a boy) that she was going to give, as a gift, to mankind. I have always wondered what happened to that child—he had an unusual Greek name. I know that as a result of this incident, the Repository started "recruiting" married, more stable parents.

I guess we fit the Repository's idea of candidates—my husband and I have Mensa level IQ (good test takers), are highly educated, professionals, have a strong family support system, I am robustly healthy (my husband is not—the reason we didn't conceive naturally), and we are financially secure. We talked and talked with the Repository—a two-year philosophical exploration—we already knew that we wanted two children (we think a family is more than one child) from the same donor who had to have all the qualities of my husband. As a practicing Roman Catholic (yes, I still am) I was terribly torn between my desire/need to create a family and the religious/ethical dilemma that this presented. I prayed for guidance. We, of course, considered adoption and actually started down that path but found ourselves emotionally and intellectually involved in Dr. Graham's quest. I have to tell you that the Repository never charged us a cent and were the most patient, caring, understanding people. Not what you would expect from an "at best elitist, at worst racist and genocidal" group. All they asked was a good home/family for these loved and wanted children to grow up in so they could become the best human beings that they could be. Yes, our children and I think the other Repository children have had every possible opportunity in life beginning with the gifts of being wanted and loved. Our children are as much a gift from God as any other children—not the "cold, utilitarian approach toward children" you described in your article.

The option to establish a connection with the donor and to have him be willing to work with us for multiple pregnancies was what closed the deal. Our donor, who we were able to correspond with, physically resembled my husband, had the same Eastern European ethnic origin, had similar intellectual and creative pursuits, the same level of education as well as the same profession. The big difference was that Red #46 was healthy and had already fathered healthy children both in his own family and for the Repository.

The conceptions and pregnancies were normal considering my age, first pregnancy at 35; both were delivered by caesarean section. My physician was aware that the pregnancies were the result of artificial insemination and the origin of the donor. Both babies were completely normal with our son having a remarkable resemblance to me from birth. He could have been cloned! When we are in groups, such as at school events, people have no difficulty finding the parents of our two children based on physical resemblance alone.

Both children are the picture of health, quite athletic, which is not a surprise given that they have abundant food, medical care, a safe home, and the opportunity to play. All children would thrive in this environment. They are considered to be the best students in their small, parochial school and test right off the top of the charts on academics as well as music (both play instruments) and art. This is also not a surprise given that they receive lots of individual attention from dedicated teachers. I can't determine where the good genetics stop and the good environment begins—I am not sure that I need and/or want to. Every now and then something (like your article) reminds me that they are "special" but the rest of the time they are just regular kids to me. When they were babies I was much more conscious of their developmental progress and I would catch myself wondering how they were "different" but not anymore. In fact, I hardly ever think about it and I expect that as time goes by I will completely put it out of my mind.

One thing that my husband and I have not come to terms with is telling our children about their biological father and the role of the Repository. We have said nothing but we have kept the red capped vial that conceived each of them and the correspondence from Red #46. Within the family only their maternal grandparents know. Once we discussed when would be an appropriate age for disclosure and we couldn't agree—I don't want to ever tell them ...

So, there you have it.

Anonymous Mother 2

This was a Fray posting from "A Nobel Baby's Parent." Click here to read it and the discussion it sparked. She has also posted two follow-up notes, here and here.

As the mother of one of the so-called "Nobel" babies, I'd like to let people know that my decision to accept donated sperm from Dr. Graham's Repository was not necessarily motivated by the urge to create a "superbaby." My husband is surgically sterile, and we were told, prior to my son's conception, that his vasectomy was not likely to be reversed with any success (medical science was not quite as far along in 1984). My only hope for having children was donor sperm, or adoption.

Believe it or not, I opened the Yellow Pages to look for sperm banks, and because I live close to the former location of the Repository, it happened to be in the phone book.

Faced with the choice of choosing "unknown" sperm donated by some medical or dental student that got paid for his "donation," or choosing sperm from the Repository, who on earth wouldn't have chosen the Repository? To make matters even simpler, the Repository did not even charge for the sperm.

I had to go through a rigorous application process; I met with Dr. Graham, and with his wonderful employees; I visited a gynecologist for a checkup and for instructions on how to do the insemination at home. It was successful on the first try.

My son is now 16 years old. I did not inform him of his genetic makeup until about two years ago, because I did NOT want him to be taunted at school, or suffer the consequences of other's opinions. His secret has always been well-protected, and still is.

The boy is beyond smart. I'm quite sure he's way beyond genius. It was never my intention to "cultivate" this particular aspect of his existence—I was happy simply to have my own and only child, however he or she would turn out.

Nor does it particularly matter to me now that he's in line for valedictorian, has a vast knowledge of computers, technology, international finance, geopolitics, and other subjects he's grown interested in entirely on his own. I'm very proud of him, of course, but it wouldn't have mattered to me if he was last in his class. I did not take him to Montessori. He's had a public school education, and has been given no special treatment because of his intelligence, other than providing him with the necessary tools to enhance his interests and education.

Did I do anything wrong or immoral? I don't think so. If my husband and I could have children together, certainly, we would have done so. My story may not parallel with the other recipients of "Nobel" sperm, but as far as my opinion on eugenics is concerned, I'm all for it, given what I know now. Why not? I'll never know how much the donor sperm had to do with my son's development, and frankly I don't care. What I do know is that the donor sperm I selected went through a far more thorough testing process than any sperm I may have received from an unknown donor.