For the London-based writer, performer and comedian Krishna Istha, a creative approach to finding a sperm donor came naturally – and resulted in a heartwarming and evocative show. First Trimester, which has been performed around the world and is next heading to the Melbourne fringe festival in October, sees potential sperm donors apply to be interviewed live on stage by Istha, a trans artist who is hunting for a donor to start a family with their partner, who is also trans.
During a 10-minute interview, Istha connects with each person as an individual, rather than the clinical information sperm banks usually provide about donors. Discussions range from the philosophical: “What do you value more – kindness or intelligence?” to cultural lore: “Have you watched The Princess Diaries?”
On their very first date seven years ago, Istha told their partner, Logan Rea, that they wanted to have children. The couple started looking into donor sperm properly four years ago, in the UK, Australia and Aotearoa (New Zealand) where Rea was born. It’s worth noting that the number of sperm donors is relatively small, which also means it’s predominantly white.
“We were looking through sperm banks and we didn’t really connect with people from the information we were given,” Istha says. “In the UK every sperm bank had eye colour, height, PhD or no PhD. I was like, I don’t know how to pick someone from this information. I thought we could speak to lots of people and find whoever this ideal person is.”
Noticing what was missing in their search led to the creation of First Trimester, which has been staged in London, Copenhagen, Dublin, Switzerland and Auckland so far. (There’s even a Netflix documentary, Sperm Donors Wanted!, directed by Rea.) As the show has moved around the world, Istha has observed distinct values held by the prospective donors in each country.
“When we did the show in Dublin, it didn’t matter what the question was – it always led back to their grandma, which I thought was really sweet,” they say. “In Switzerland, there was a real emphasis on people raising kids in co-ops, which I was very surprised by. It’s interesting to work out what people’s landscape of family making and ideas of family are.”
When we speak on Zoom – Istha in London and me in regional Victoria – I’ve just apologetically exited the mayhem of post-Taco Tuesday cleanup with my wife and our own donor-conceived children. Having a known donor was important to us; we understand family to be both logical and biological, as it is for many members of the LGBTIQA+ community.
When my wife, our donor and I met up in a cafe all those years ago, we asked him what would happen if he suddenly felt a desire to be an involved parent once a child was born. His honest response, that he genuinely didn’t know, confirmed he was the right person for us. We didn’t know until talking it through as a trio that humility was one of the qualities we were looking for.
For both Istha and Rea, it feels essential to know the person who would be part of their lives – either now or when their child turns 18. And a face-to-face conversation will hopefully ensure their donor is not “a horrible person who is a transphobe or a queerphobe”.
So First Trimester is a genuine search for a donor – but for the audience, it is also an eye-opening show about trans reproductive healthcare that puts conversations often held behind closed doors on stage. Istha explores the intersections of fertility and human connection with warmth and charisma, welcoming people to explore the myriad layers of this living artwork together.
For Istha and Rea, their initial conversations about seeking their donor through theatre were more whimsical wondering than concrete plan. Rea was initially worried about their privacy. “[He] definitely said no to it at the start,” says Istha. “Now he’s completely on board and he loves it – he sits in the audience for every show.”
Part of why Rea changed his mind is also why First Trimester is so important. “As we spent more time looking into how trans people might go about having kids – adoption v carrying, the logistics, and the legal landscape of how we might be protected as parents – we almost immediately realised the lack of adequate information to help us through it,” Istha says. “We, of course, were very lucky to have queer friends and family who have done this before and had access to information that way, but the thing that made Logan go ‘yes we should do this show’ was wanting to create resources for others in the future.”
The generosity of the LGBTIQA+ community flows in many directions, and responses to the show have been no exception. “Our friends have offered [to donate sperm] way more than they would have otherwise,” says Istha. “But we did set a rule, because I am a performance artist: if you offer [a donation], you have to be in the show. It’s unfair to set up a process and then not stick to it.”
In broad terms, Istha and Rea’s ideal donor would be “someone we can get on with, someone we would want in our lives as a friend forever after that point”.
“It’s much like looking for a partner – good communication, and to believe in the same thing,” they add. “Someone kind and fun who would add to the child’s life in some way.”
In their dreams, what does Istha’s future family look like? “The first thing that pops into my head is matching outfits,” they reply. “Me and Logan and this baby in some sort of incredible silver onesie. The first dream is to have a child. I’ll dream about the rest if and when that happens.”
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First Trimester is on at Arts House, North Melbourne, 16-18 October. Auslan interpreted performance 17 October 7pm. Tactile tour and audio describer guides are available on 18 October, as well as by request – contact Arts House to book