Dan Kennedy (8:31)

That's Davion Walters. And after Davion shared her story, she came into the Moth studio and talked with Michaela Blythe, the Moth's director of education and community.

Mikaela Blythe (8:41)

Hi, Davion.

Davion Walters (8:42)

Hi.

Mikaela Blythe (8:43)

So I had a couple of questions about this story. Actually, I've heard it a few times, and I love it more every time. Did your dad hear this story?

Davion Walters (8:51)

No.

Mikaela Blythe (8:53)

Your mom has heard this story?

Davion Walters (8:55)

No.

Mikaela Blythe (8:56)

Your mom hasn't heard this story either?

Davion Walters (8:58)

No. But I told her about it.

Mikaela Blythe (8:59)

Okay. Yeah.

Davion Walters (9:00)

Cause she completely agrees with me, because he can. My dad can be very stubborn, and he often says the first thing that comes into his mind. It may not be the nicest, but you gotta know where he's coming from with it. And he truly does care about me. So I know that the insult was a joke and nothing to personally affect me. And I told him that, you know, that joke kind of, like, hurt me a while after. And he did apologize, and he said, I didn't mean it in that way. You know, I was just playing around.

Mikaela Blythe (9:35)

So how has the Story changed for you as you've told it over time.

Davion Walters (9:40)

As my story got older, it got bolder too. I bring up the issue with black hair on black women because before it was seen as very inappropriate to have like cornrows or box bridge or to have just a full blown afro at work. And it was something that I've never saw until I realized that this was an issue. So now I'm able to kind of address it and not feel like I'm going to say something wrong or someone's going to look like, why is she bringing race into this? So my story can now be a little more political than I wanted to make it when I was in high school because before the haircut, I was always very shy, very, like, shutting myself in. And I always told myself no, because I thought that, you know, my story wouldn't matter. So when I cut my hair, I told myself that you're gonna start telling yourself yes from now on. So I honestly believe that I wouldn't be where I am now if I hadn't decided to cut my hair and decided to say yes. But now I can truly say that my hair is never gonna look like naptools 85. And I'm completely okay with that. It's a relationship. So there are ups and downs, but it still worked out and we're here.

Mikaela Blythe (10:54)

So today you've got this great. You dyed it like pretty dark red. Yeah. And it's like just growing out. But I really like the look. And if I may say, I know it's in audio, but it does look amazing right now.

Davion Walters (11:09)

Thank you.

Mikaela Blythe (11:12)

Cool. Well, thank you so much for talking to me.

Dan Kennedy (11:16)

That was Diavion Walters. And the Moth's Mikaela Bly devion is a born and bred Brooklynite and a psychology major at Mercy College. She aspires to be an art therapist and she's been a teaching artist in the Moth education program. Thanks for sharing your story, Davion. Up next, a story from Lori Gottlieb. She shared this at a Moth main stage we did in Aspen, Colorado. It was in partnership with the Aspen Ideas Festival. And the theme of the night was this mortal coil. Here's Laurie live at the moment.

Lori Gottlieb (11:50)

So I was 37 years old and I had just gotten out of a three year relationship, which is terrible timing if you want to have a baby. And I really wanted to have a baby, but I didn't want to just marry the next guy who came along. And so I was in this kind of tricky situation that I guess can best be described as desperate but picky. And my friend Julie said, you know, even if you don't find the guy in time, you can have a baby in time. And the next thing I know, she sends me some links for some sperm donor sites. Now, I had no idea what to expect, but I quickly learned that these mating sites, as I started calling them, ranged from high end FDA registered cryobanks to, believe it or not, discount sperm providers. I don't know, maybe it's me, but I just wasn't comfortable going to the Costco of semen. I mean, I will skimp on toilet paper, but not on the genetic material for my child. So I picked one of the name brand sites and I typed in my search criteria and every day all of these choices popped up. Did I want an MBA or a PhD? Did I want a lacrosse player or a literature major? Did I want a Truffaut buff or a guy in a band? And it was so confusing because weirdly enough, these donor profiles read just like dating profiles and I'd already failed at those. But the good news was there were these women at the sperm banks who were known as the lab girls. And basically the lab girls meet the donors when they come in to do their thing. And unbeknownst to the donors, they give us staff impressions that we can't get from reading the profiles. So things like, he has amazing biceps or he can be a bit scatterbrained but eventually gets his stuff done. I loved having this beat behind the scenes personal reconnaissance. So anytime there was a profile that I was seriously considering, I would call up this sperm bank and I would ask for this lab girl named Maureen. Now I would always ask for Maureen because I trusted her to tell me the truth and tell it like it was. I remember the first time I sent her a profile and I asked if the guy was attractive in person. She said, well, he's not unattractive, but I wouldn't look twice at him in the subway. So I knew she was my girl. I also ran profiles by my therapist because he knew my patterns. At the time, I had a thing for edgy but inappropriate men. And so when I brought in the profile of a guy whose favorite books were Lolita and A Clockwork Orange, he just kind of looked at me and shook his head. He thought that a healthier choice would be the architecture grad student whose favorite hobby was renovating old homes with his wife. But I was like, the dude is married. That is so creepy. To which my therapist replied in his usual neutral and non judgmental Way. How is having a baby with a married man any less creepy than having a baby with a teenager in college? I had no reply, which is probably why I was in therapy. Anyway, after months of going through this very exhausting process, I finally made a decision. Maureen from the sperm bank told me about a donor that she described as looking like a young George Clooney. She also said she really liked him because he was always friendly and in a good mood. When he came in. She insisted that he had it all. Intelligence, charm, personality, sense of humor. And she said, and I found this funny at the time, given the context in which she was meeting him. She said that he was the whole package. So I checked out his health history and I read his essays. He liked Coldplay. I like Coldplay. And I knew that I had found the one. And I was so excited because I was finally going to get started. I was finally going to try to have a baby. It was kind of like the way my married friends felt when they would go off the pill and were about to have unprotected sex with their husbands for the first time. And I am so psyched. And I go on the website and I find my donors page and I find the little tab that says click to purchase vials. And I click on it and then my heart drops because what happens next is a little bubble pops up that says out of stock. Yeah. And I think that maybe this is just some kind of strange computer glitch. So I speed dial the sperm bank and they tell me that actually I picked a very popular donor and that they might not get more inventory for a while because some people have placed him on backorder. And my first thought is, damn that Marine. Was she pitching him to everyone? Is that why he's out of stock? And I am really, really upset because once you pick a specific donor, you start to kind of picture a specific baby. And now I have to let that baby go. And after all that it's taken to come this far, now I'm back at square one. So my donor's out of stock, I've just turned 38 and I am out of time. And I'm trying to figure out what to do next. Because if my plan A had been to grow up and fall in love and get married and have a baby, and my plan B was to grow up and inseminate myself with a 19 year old sperm from the Internet, I can't even imagine what my plan C might have to look like. And that's when I see on my desk this business card that I got from this super hot 27 year old filmmaker from Harvard that I had spoken to for about five minutes the week before at a professional networking event. And in that kind of delusional state that can only come from this dangerous combination of intense desire and intense fear, I decide that I should just cut out the middleman, forget about the sperm bank, and I should ask him to be my donor. And I think this is a brilliant plan, except for the fact that I don't know how to ask. I've never even asked a guy on a date before. And so I wonder what the etiquette is for asking a guy to be your sperm donor. I choose email. And I sent him this kind of cryptic email, hey, remember me from that networking event? And I tell him that I have what I artfully call an unusual question. And I ask if he'll meet with me. And so we set up a meeting for Friday at noon. So on Friday I walk into the appointed place and it's this trendy cafe called Earth with a U. And I see Andrew and I'm a little bit nervous. But I also have a plan. And my plan is that I'm going to make small talk for a few minutes. You kind of have to break the ice with these things. And then I'm going to launch into my prepared speech, which is the perfect combination of poignant and straightforward. The only problem is that it becomes very apparent very quickly that Andrew thinks we are on a date. And it never occurred to me that he would think this was a date because he's so young and he's so gorgeous and he's so tall and he's so incredible, like completely out of my league. But I'm also having so much fun that I'm kind of forgetting why we're there. And so about an hour in, I am completely taken by surprise when he leans into the table and he looks at me with those swoon worthy chocolate brown eyes and he says flirtatiously, so I'm really curious, what was your unusual question? Oh my God. My mind goes completely blank. And then I have this sudden epiphany that my brilliant plan to ask a total stranger to be my sperm donor is actually quite insane. But I'm willing to be insane because I want this baby so badly. So I just go for it. And I start awkwardly mixing lame metaphors like not having all the ingredients for the recipe with it's like donating a kidney but without removing the organ. And then I'm like, oh, I shouldn't have Said organ. And then I'm like. It's like donating blood, but with so instead of needles. And I look at Andrew and he is staring back at me. And I think, life does not get more humiliating than this. But then it does, because my metaphors were so awkward that he has no idea what I've been trying to ask him. And so I just say, Look, I am 38 years old and I really want to have a baby. And I'm wondering if you would maybe consider donating some sperm. And this time I know he's got it because his entire face changes and he kind of freezes and his mocha chai latte is literally suspended in midair. And we sit like that until he finally breaks the silence and says, wow. And then he says, I wasn't expecting that at all. But then he says, but I'd be willing to talk about it. Cool. So over the next couple of hours, Andrew and I become oddly intimate. And we discuss everything from our childhoods to our future dreams. It's like talking about sperm has broken down all the emotional walls. Kind of like after you have sex with somebody for the first time. And by the end of the coffee, he says that he's going to give it some thought. And by the end of the night, he sends me an email that says, so far I am a yes, but with more questions. So we decide to meet again at Earth. And in fact, over the next month or so, we meet at Earth so often that I start calling Earth my sperm office and my friends start calling it simply Spurth. And at Spurth, we talk about everything from medical histories to semen samples to anonymity to whether we should have the doctor do the insemination or whether we should have sex to increase my odds of conception. He picks sex. He does. And I am particularly psyched about this development because I know that I will never again, for the rest of my life, have the opportunity to have sex with a movie star. Gorgeous, 6 foot 2, 27 year old with ripped abs and chiseled cheekbones and Brad Pitt's hair. That will never happen. And so I am psyched, but I'm sad. And I'm also obsessively watching the clock. And one day at Spurth, I tell Andrew that I'm about to get my period, which is always a super hot thing to say to a guy. And I tell him that if we are going to go forward, we have exactly two weeks to make a decision. Now, I know that sounds like a lot of pressure to put on a guy but you have to realize that at this point, we have nicknames for each other, and we know the intimate details of each other's lives, and we have inside jokes, and we've explored everything that could go right or wrong with the donation. And we've talked about what a blessing this child would be. And he thinks I'm courageous, and I think he's generous, and it's a total love fest. And I'm sure he is going to say yes. So the next day, we decide to take a walk and kind of iron out the final details. And on the walk, it unexpectedly starts raining. And Andrew has his big, oversized coat, and. And so he takes half of it, and he puts my left arm in one sleeve, and he puts his arm in the other. And because he's a full foot taller than I am, we're kind of walking diagonally like this. And that's the moment that he confirms that he is in. It is a definite yes, and we are going to go forward. And I am elated. And I am standing there getting drenched in the rain in this coat with this man who is going to give me his sperm. And I think about how I can't wait to tell my child this story one day. And then Andrew disappears. I don't hear from him for three days, which might not sound like very long, but when you're 38 and you're about to ovulate and your only other baby option is on backorder, three days is a fricking eternity. And I'm trying not to get stressed out and read into this because stress is bad for conception, but, you know, I know something is up. And then he calls me and he leaves a message and he says that we need to talk. And whereas we used to just say, hey, it's me, now he leaves not just his first name, but his last name. And that's when I know that the unthinkable is about to happen. I am about to be dumped by my donor when I walk into what I know will be our final meeting at Spurth. I see Andrew at our special little sperm table over there, and the minute I sit down, he starts spewing the breakup cliches. It's not you, it's me, he says. My life is just so unsettled right now that I thought I could commit, but I'm not sure. And for your sake, I don't want to string you along. And then the kicker. I hope we can still be friends. And I look at him and I say, that's okay. There are other fish in the sea. And I make that terrible pun because I know that if I don't, I will burst out crying in public. But inside, I am dying because this is now the second baby that I have so vividly imagined and that I will now never meet or hold in my arms. And so I go home, and I decide that I have to take a break from this whole sperm donor thing because it is just too much heartbreak to bear. So I ovulate, and I get my period. If you can't follow the biology, don't worry about it. And whenever those diaper commercials come on, you know, the ones with the adorable baby butts? I have to grab the remote immediately and turn off the tv. About a month later, I force myself to go back online and start looking for a new donor when Maureen from the sperm bank calls, and she tells me that somebody has returned a vial of my first choice donor's sperm. The one that she said looked like a young George Clooney and was the whole package. I'm not sure how I feel about returned semen. I mean, at Whole Foods, you can't even return any personality hygiene items. But Maureen assures me that it's still sealed in its nitrogen tank, and she says that if I want it, I need to let her know right now. So that winter, I have the baby, and when he's old enough, I buy him one of those where did I come from? Books. But this one's written specifically for sperm donor kids. It's called I'm a little Frosty. And I start reading it to him, and he says, wait, I thought this was gonna be about a snowman. And I say, well, actually, this frosty book is about the time that mommy needed to get some special seeds to make a baby, and the seeds needed to be frozen. And he stops me and he says, I was frozen. And I say, well, a part of what was used to make you was frozen. And he gets this huge smile on his face, and he does a little fist pump like LeBron James does when he scores a three pointer. And he says, I am so cool. And I look at my son, who, by the way, does look like a mini version of George Clooney. And I think about how I never could have realized back when my relationship ended at age 37, or during all of those baby discussions with Andrew, or that devastating day that I was dumped by my donor, I never realized this, but it became so clear to me right in that moment. This magical child is the whole package that I'd been searching for all along. Thank you.

Dan Kennedy (26:39)

Lori Gottlieb is a psychotherapist and New York Times best selling author and she writes the weekly Dear Therapist advice column for the Atlantic. Her next book, maybe youe Should Talk to Someone, will be out next spring, and it's been years since Laurie shared her story with us, but she wrote in to say that she and her magical child are doing well. That's it for this week's episode of the Moth Podcast. The Moth Radio Hour returns next week. If you'd like to see pictures or any extras from the stories that you heard today on the podcast, just Visit our site, themoth.org Dan Kennedy is the.

Lori Gottlieb (27:15)

Author of Loser Goes First, Rock on and American Spirit. He's also a regular host and storyteller.

Dan Kennedy (27:21)

With the Moth Podcast production by Timothy Lou Lee. The Moth Podcast is presented by prx, the Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public@prx.org.