HE regularly donates blood, he’s registered as a bone marrow donor and he carries an organ donor card as he wants to help others after his death. Now Mark Matheson*, a 36-year-old chef from Dumfries and Galloway, has become a sperm donor – because he sees it as just another way he can help others. Matheson is one of only a few men who have volunteered to donate sperm in Scotland. New figures reveal only 29 new sperm donors registered across the whole of Scotland in 2010. Mark decided to speak out as he hopes to inspire other men to give more people the chance of having a family. The catalyst came when his brother and sister-in-law had problems conceiving and he saw first hand the trauma couples can face when they have difficulties trying to have a longed-for baby. Then he heard a radio advert appeal for sperm donors and decided he wanted to help, so contacted IVF Scotland at the Spire Shawfair Park Hospital, in Edinburgh. He views donating sperm as similar to giving blood or donating your organs once you die. “I see the body more as a machine to help other people,” he says. “I don’t see why you can’t give another person the chance of sight after you die and a premature baby the chance of life from a blood donation. “I thought, why not become a sperm donor? For me, it’s a by-product of the human body and it shouldn’t be wasted. To give life to somebody or give someone a child is absolutely amazing.” Matheson grew up in a loving family with a brother and sister and dotes on his nephews and niece. But he says the unsocial hours of a catering career that has taken him across the globe and back to Scotland has meant he hasn’t yet found a woman to settle down with and start a family of his own. “I absolutely adore children. There’s nothing more that I want in my life than to find that person to settle down with and start a family,” he says. “But with such unsociable hours in my job, it’s difficult to keep a relationship in this industry. I was going out with a woman I used to work with for three years but that came to an end when we drifted apart. At the age I’m at, perhaps my chance of having children of my own has passed. I’ve always been open about the fact I’d like to have children. I’m seeing someone now who has children. It’s still an early relationship. But I’ve spoken to her about the fact I donate sperm and the reasons why and she thought it was a really good thing to be doing.” Matheson has also been completely open with family and friends and hasn’t faced any negative comments – although he admits he’s been on the receiving end of some jokey banter from his friends. “It’s not something to be ashamed of, it’s something I should be quite proud of,” he says. “That sounds self-gratifying but for me it’s helping out someone, just like if an old person falls over in the street. It’s a warmth of feeling like I’m doing something right with my life. “I’ve not been a Snow White person throughout my life. I would not go back and change anything, but I’d rather know I’m accomplishing good now and helping people as much as I can.” Before he decided to donate sperm, he discussed the issue with his parents and friends. “My mother said if she’d been younger she would have considered being an egg donor. For many people wanting children, it’s not important to them about the biological side of it. It’s more about bringing up the children and being there for the child rather than who is the biological parent. “If you go into a relationship where a woman has young children, they’re going to look to the male as the father. Once they’re old enough, they’ll find out someone else gave the chromosomes to create them. It’s the same where there has been a sperm or egg donor. It’s not going to change the child’s life dramatically because they’ve still got their mummy or daddy; it’s not like anything major has changed.” The Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority, the governing body, has recently restructured incentives for sperm donors, who now receive £35 per visit plus expenses, but Matheson insists he isn’t in it for the money. “Friends have asked if I get paid for it and I say, ‘No, I do it out of the satisfaction of doing something good’. I wouldn’t be expected to get paid for giving blood. I wouldn’t expect my family to get money for my kidney or heart once I die. I don’t see why you should get any monetary gain for it – it should be for the satisfaction of doing it and helping other people,” he says. “I go into a clinic and look at magazines. I don’t see that I should get paid for something like that. If it was something long and laborious and was taking four to six weeks to donate I could understand it, if you were giving up an income and had to take time out. But not if you’re taking 30 minutes out of a day – or even less – I don’t see that’s a reason to give somebody money for it.” Matheson says he was fully informed about the process and his samples went through a rigorous screening process. He’s very matter-of-fact about the donation process. “I go into the clinic, I get shown to a hospital room, I close the door and there are magazines there and the normal process takes place and I bag it up and take it back to reception and say goodbye. I don’t get easily embarrassed. It’s half an hour – if that.” Each donor can bank enough sperm to father up to ten babies. He’ll only be told how many babies have been born and what sex they are. Matheson’s sperm hasn’t been used yet, but he has no worries about any potential offspring tracking him down when they’re 18 – and also doesn’t mind if they don’t want to get in touch. “It doesn’t scare me in the slightest,” he says. “They’re going to have been hopefully brought up in a family that’s loving and caring and looked after them. I could possibly be a friend to them. I don’t see it as worrying about a knock on the door and somebody demanding money off me and being aggressive. I hope the children would see it as, they’ve been given the opportunity of life and to grow up in a loving and caring environment.” But he’s also happy to share his family history with any of his biological children when they grow up, although he says: “I wouldn’t see myself as their father.” Around 50 years ago, Matheson’s aunt fell pregnant at 15 and was forced to give her son up for adoption. Matheson’s father managed to track down his sister’s lost son around ten years ago so he could meet his biological family and he has stayed in touch. Matheson sees benefits in knowing your biological roots. “I can understand the human curiosity to want to know about where your biological parents come from.” He doesn’t mind whether his sperm goes to a straight couple, gay or a single woman as long as they can raise any children in a loving environment. “I hope a couple would be doing it for the right reasons, because they love each other and see a future for themselves and want to bring another person into the world to share the love and share the experience of the world. It wouldn’t bother me whether it was a surrogate mother for a gay couple or a lesbian couple wanting the sperm. As far as I’m concerned, two women or two men can be just as loving to a child, or a single mother. I have a few friends who are single parents and they have a great family. My sister brought up her boys on her own after she split from their dad. “Sometimes you do need two parents because sometimes there are things that become too much for a single person, but that’s where their friends and family come into play to help them with any problems.” He believes the notion that assisted conception and using donor eggs and sperm could be messing with nature is outdated. “It’s simply human biology,” he says. “Certain criminals or those who are abusive to children still have the ability to conceive, who are we to say who can and can’t have children? “Just because there could be one cell missing in someone’s body that could mean they can’t have children, I don’t see why we should keep it that way. I don’t see it as meddling in nature. We’re not creating something from nothing. We’re not trying to be God, for want of a better analogy.” Matheson still hopes he’ll one day have children of his own to raise – but is realistic enough to know that nothing in life is guaranteed. “I still hope I’ll have children. I’d love to have a family and I still do hope that would happen but as you’re getting further on in your life you see that possibility lessening. “My mum was 35 when she had me. I had a great upbringing I couldn’t have wanted for a better environment. So I’ve not put a definitive age on wanting children.” One day he would like the unconditional love a child can give a parent – but for now that’s the hope he’s offering others. “The donation side is to give someone the opportunity to have that. But I hope I’ll have that opportunity in the future. But whether it’s a pint of blood or 5mls of sperm it doesn’t matter, it’s still helping someone out.” * Not his real name
