Do Donor-Conceived Kids Need to Know Their Half-Siblings?

Parental Decisions about Connecting with Families that Used the Same Donor

When donor conception is part of your family story, one question often surfaces: Should we try to find and connect with others who used the same donor?

It’s a question that can be surprisingly charged. If you are in any donor conception group online, you’ve seen the exchanges. Some people feel strongly that sharing DNA is meaningful, and genetic family members deserve to know one another. Others argue that genes are just biology, and family is based on the relationships we choose. Some think connection should happen as soon as possible. Others believe that children should lead the way.

At its core, I don’t think this is about whether children who share a donor must know each other; it’s about whether knowing each other might matter to your child, and if so, how you want to navigate that terrain.

Decisions to connect deserve to be made with an understanding of what connection might offer and require. Ultimately, these choices aren’t about strictly following “best practices.” They are about understanding your values, your child’s needs, and the kind of family story you want to write together.

In this post, I’ll explore (1) how cultural ideas about family shape the conversation, (2) practical considerations for parents of young DCP, and (3) what research says (spoiler: not much).

A note on language: Donor siblings can be described in a variety of ways in research literature. You might see terms like donor-linked peers/families, same-donor peers/siblings, or donor sibling networks/cohort. These are usually not the terms that people use in everyday life (more on this later). I try to use a mix of terms in this post.

What Makes Someone Family?

All of us know this from lived experience: biology doesn’t guarantee family bonds, and kinship doesn’t require biology.

Black American traditions of othermothering and play cousins reflect a long history of intentional, collective care under conditions where family structures were systematically disrupted. In Latin American communities, compadrazgo creates formal kinship through ritual obligation and reciprocal responsibility. Queer and trans communities have long practiced chosen family, a way of building kinship around care, recognition, and shared values rather than biology or legal designation. For many people, that chosen family is also what biological family couldn’t provide.

Kinship also forms in less formalized ways. In many cultures, children call familiar adults “auntie” and “uncle.” Military members who serve together become brothers. A college roommate becomes a child’s godparent. An elderly neighbor becomes an extra grandparent. These can be real bonds, created through care, commitment, and mutual recognition.

At the same time, dominant cultural narratives continue to elevate genetic connection as the marker of ‘real’ family. This is what scholars call bionormativity, or the privileging of biological kinship as more authentic or legitimate than other forms of family bonds. Closely linked are heteronormativity and cisnormativity: the assumption that families should be headed by heterosexual, cisgender married couples, with children genetically related to both parents. Together, these ideologies present a narrow vision of what counts as a legitimate family. This is not a new phenomenon. From Hungary's pronatalist constitutional reforms to Australia's Family First movement, the political project of defining and defending the "natural family" has been a global one for decades. In the US, Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation’s policy blueprint, explicitly promotes the “stable, married, nuclear family” as the only acceptable family form, asserting that “all children have a right to be raised by the men and women who conceived them.”

Why Does This Matter for Donor Conception?

Understanding this context is important for how we talk about donor connections. When claims surface that donor-conceived people need connection to genetic relatives to be “whole,” we’re encountering bio-, cis, and heteronormative ideology, not scientific fact. When we uncritically center genetic connection in donor conception conversations, we risk reinforcing these ideas.

The alternative isn’t to flip the binary and insist genes don’t matter at all. It’s to reject the binary itself, to make space for genetic connection to matter without treating it as mandatory and to not matter without treating it as a deficiency. Same-donor connections can be meaningful to some donor-conceived people without insisting that all DCP are incomplete without them. Genetic curiosity can be normal for some without accepting that biology determines identity. Parents can opt to facilitate donor sibling connections to expand their child’s world, not to fix something broken in it.

What to Consider When Thinking About Connecting With Families That Used The Same Donor

Families who search for guidance on connecting with donor siblings likely find advice insisting that the connection is always beneficial and that families should search early and connect enthusiastically. However, treating connection as a universal best practice ignores the reality that families have different values, circumstances, and needs. It’s also worth recognizing that many of the concerns about donor siblings don’t seem to show up the same way across cultures.

What follows are the key questions parents might encounter, with the understanding that each family’s circumstances will shape how they approach the decisions.

Before walking through these considerations, I should acknowledge my own position: I’m a white, cisgender, heterosexual solo parent who used a sperm bank donor to conceive neurotypical-ish children. What I can offer comes from my exploration of research, careful attention to diverse voices, and a humble awareness that I have a lot to learn. Families using known donors, LGBTQ+ families, Black, Brown, and Indigenous families, and families with neurodivergence or disability will have considerations beyond my lived experience.

In addition, we can’t talk about donor siblings without acknowledging the role of industry and regulation. Third party reproduction operates under a patchwork of self-regulation and national laws, resulting in widely varying practices. A lack of enforceable donor limits in many jurisdictions creates donor-linked peer networks that can span dozens or even hundreds of people scattered across vast geographic areas. The mechanisms for finding and connecting with same-donor families are fragmented. Some banks maintain their own registries, but families also rely on informal social media groups, third-party registries, and consumer DNA testing services. In rare cases, donor-conceived people can access official sibling information from a regulatory body, like the UK’s HFEA, but most have no way to know the true scope of their same-donor peer network.

It’s also worth noting that for health updates, banks and clinics rely entirely on voluntary self-reporting from donors and families and typically only relay updates that meet institutional thresholds for disclosure. This means families often turn to informal same-donor networks to learn about and share health information that they believe could inform their children’s care, creating a situation where access to medical information becomes entangled with decisions about social connection.

Decisions about Disclosure

The starting point seems pretty straightforward: children should know the truth. Being donor conceived often means the possibility that other families used the same donor, and that means there may be other kids who got half their DNA from the same person or people. This is simply factual information about how donor conception works, not a suggestion about what those genetic connections should mean. Truth-telling creates the foundation for everything else. Children can’t develop their own understanding of what sharing genes with other children means to them if the basic facts are obscured. They have a right to form their own interpretations of these connections, but that requires knowing they exist in the first place.

When to introduce the concept of donor-linked peers depends on your family’s approach to disclosure more broadly. Some families treat information about origins or family formation, which might feel significant to a child later, as a normal part of their story from the beginning. Early introduction of the possibility of donor siblings means children grow up with this knowledge, creates space for questions to emerge naturally over time, and, if you pursue connection, allows for relationships to develop alongside other childhood friendships. Very young children will not fully grasp the concept, so parents should be comfortable with some confusion and ambiguity in the beginning.

For some families, disclosure sequencing may look different. For families where a parent is trans or nonbinary, disclosure about donor conception may be woven into broader conversations about that parent's gender history and the specific path that led to this family. For neurodivergent children, the abstract relational concepts involved may need to be introduced in concrete, staged language long before the fuller picture comes into focus. For children conceived from donated embryos, the concept carries a particular complexity: their genetic siblings are being raised by the people who are also their genetic parents. In each of these situations, the question isn't just when to introduce the concept but how to sequence information in a way that serves the child's developing understanding.

Waiting for child-led disclosure of same-donor siblings means responding to actual curiosity at the moments when children may have greater cognitive capacity to understand. For example, a school-age child encounters genetics in the classroom and begins wondering about half-siblings. In theory, this honors developmental readiness and meets children where they are. In practice, however, it can carry risks. Children may have genuine curiosity without ever asking, because they don’t know enough to know the question is available to them or because they think they are protecting a parent. There’s also the risk that your child discovers the information some other way, or eventual disclosure feels more like a “shock.” Children might wonder why their parents waited, so be prepared to answer those questions. (This happened to a family in my kids’ sibling group. A nearly 5-year-old asked their mother why she hadn’t told them about their donor siblings.)

Decisions about Searching and Connecting

Another question parents grapple with is whether to search for other same-donor families, when to make initial contact, and how to involve children in this process. Families take different approaches based on their culture and values, their children’s ages and personalities, and their capacity to manage these relationships.

Some families search and connect early. These parents might look for same-donor families when their children are young (or even before birth) and make enthusiastic initial contact with other families. Other families do the initial work of finding one another and establishing basic contact, but don’t actively pursue relationship-building until their child shows curiosity or a desire for connection. Some families wait for child-initiated interest before even searching.

Ultimately, parents should consider whether the potential benefits of the spectrum of connection options outweigh the potential costs and risks for their child and their family.

The Potential Benefits of Connection

Connecting with same-donor families isn’t about correcting a deficit or filling a void in your family. Rather, these connections have the potential to be additive. They can provide access to information, community, and relationships that enhance what already exists.

At the most basic level, connecting with other families provides information you often can’t get elsewhere. Connecting with other families can sometimes clarify the scope of a donor’s reach: how many families, how many children, and where they’re located. Some of this serves protective purposes, like preventing accidental consanguinity. More common is simply knowing: information can shape how families talk to their children. It’s one thing to say, “There might be families that used the same donor as us.” It’s another thing to say, “We know of seven other families who used our family’s donor, and some of them have children who are your age.” The specificity can be helpful as children grow and ask more detailed questions.

Shared genetics can also mean shared health profiles. When multiple families compare notes, patterns emerge that no single family would notice on their own. Sometimes these are minor quirks: early walkers, late teethers, the same distinctive thumb. Sometimes they’re more significant: similar sensory processing quirks, the same autoimmune condition, a pattern of ADHD. (My pediatrician is no longer surprised when I mention my kids’ cohort at annual well-child visits.)

Beyond information, these connections can offer social and emotional benefits. For some parents, connecting with other donor-conceived families means finding others navigating similar questions about disclosure, identity, and family formation. When families share not just donor conception but also similar family structures, religious backgrounds, cultural contexts, or values, these connections can provide meaningful support and reduce isolation. For some children, meeting others who are also donor-conceived—especially those who share the same donor—offers a unique reference point. These are kids who might understand this particular aspect of their story without explanation. These connections don’t replace existing friendships or family bonds, but they can add another dimension for families who find networks where they genuinely belong.

I’ve also been thinking about this: Extended family networks provide important buffers against isolation and offer support throughout life, and families are shrinking. Research projects that by 2095, people will have 35% fewer relatives than in 1950, with particularly steep declines in lateral kinship bonds such as cousins, nieces, and nephews. Donor sibling connections could offer one way to build extended family relationships for a future when many people will have fewer of them.

The Potential Risks and Costs of Connection

Connecting with same-donor families does require investment of time, emotional energy, and money. Understanding what these relationships can require helps parents make informed decisions about whether and how to proceed.

Searching and connecting require emotional labor and an ability to tolerate uncertainty. In most cases, you’re reaching out to strangers based solely on shared donor use, with no way to know in advance whether you’ll find compatible families. Some families discover far more half-siblings than expected, which can be overwhelming. Others find none, which can be disappointing.

Managing relationships across distance and differences takes work. Unlike friendships that develop organically through proximity, donor sibling connections often span geographic distance and bring together families with different life circumstances. Maintaining contact requires intentional effort.

These connections can create unanticipated complications. Children may form attachments to same-donor siblings and then feel hurt when those relationships fade or when other families pull back (ahem, parents aren’t immune to this either). Seeing children who live in different circumstances can prompt difficult questions or comparisons.

Financial costs can add up, especially if same-donor families live far apart. Some families have resources to visit routinely; others find meetups financially straining. This disparity can create tension within networks when some families can afford to attend gatherings and others cannot.

Boundary violations and values clashes can create problems. Some families may share more information than you’re comfortable with, pressure you to maintain contact you don’t want, or violate agreed-upon rules around privacy. Families may express values fundamentally at odds with yours—homophobia, racism, and other harmful views—forcing difficult decisions about whether to maintain connection. Another common cause of conflict is searching for and connecting with the donor.

Calculating Benefits and Risks

There’s no single approach that works for everyone. Understanding a family’s context—what they’re bringing, what they need, what they’re being asked to navigate—helps clarify the extent to which same-donor connections are likely to serve them.

For some, connecting with others who share the same donor offers access to community and reference points they wouldn’t otherwise have. If you’re the only donor-conceived family in your community, these connections can reduce isolation and provide your child with others who understand this aspect of their story. The investment required may feel worthwhile because these connections provide something genuinely valuable.

Some families find these connections align naturally with existing values around expansive kinship. Other families find the emphasis on genetic connection uncomfortable, particularly when their family has never prioritized biology as the basis for kinship. If your child already has strong community, identity anchors, and a sense of belonging, same-donor connections may matter less, or matter differently than they do for other families. Your calculation will depend on your specific circumstances, not on what a social media forum says these connections should mean.

Decisions about Levels of Connection

If a family decides to connect with same-donor families, they’re not committing to a cookie-cutter relationship. Connection isn’t all-or-nothing. It exists on a spectrum, and where one lands on that spectrum varies from family to family and changes over time.

Some families choose to maintain minimal connection, exchanging basic information for medical purposes, aware of each other’s existence but keeping the relationship peripheral. They acknowledge the genetic link without building an active relationship around it.

Other families might take it a step further with moderate connection: occasional meetups, holiday card exchanges, and periodic check-ins that maintain friendly awareness without deep integration into routine life. The connection is real but bounded.

And then there are the families who aim for a deeper connection, treating same-donor families as sort of an extended family, building shared history through regular calls, visits, or other exchanges. These families can develop the kind of closeness that transforms the genetic connection into a lived relationship, creating a sort of chosen family bond.

Your family’s position on this spectrum isn’t fixed, and your relationship with each family might occupy a different point. You might start with minimal connection and move toward deeper engagement as children grow and express interest. Or you might begin with high engagement and pull back as life gets busy or children’s interests shift. You might have seven same-donor families in your network, but maintain close, regular contact with only two of them. You don’t owe the same level of relationship to every family just because you chose the same donor.

A Note About Letting Kids Take the Lead

In many families, parents make the initial decisions about the level of contact: how often to meet, whether to join group video calls, and how much to share in network communications. These decisions feel necessary when children are young and can’t yet articulate their own preferences.

As children develop their own perspectives, their preferences should increasingly determine where relationships land on the spectrum. Knowing what children actually want requires more than waiting for them to volunteer their feelings. Regular, low-pressure check-ins can help. For example, after a video call or meetup, ask, “How did that feel for you?” rather than just, “Did you have fun?”

Children are perceptive. If they sense a topic makes you anxious or if they think you’ve invested heavily in these relationships, they may tell you what they think you want to hear rather than what they actually feel. The goal is to signal that all feelings are acceptable and that your child won’t disappoint you by expressing any of them. Respecting autonomy means accepting that these relationships belong to your child, not to you, and they get to decide where on the spectrum each relationship belongs.

Decisions about Terminology and Language

Research shows that donor-conceived people use a range of terms in general and that terms often vary based on the nature of the relationship. For example, someone might reserve terms like brother or sister for someone they feel close to while calling other same-donor peers more casual terms.

The terminology families use for donor siblings matters less than whether the words serve the child. I’ve seen so many options: half siblings, same-donor peers, donor-linked peers, genetic siblings, kids from the same donor, diblings, dosies, donor sibling groups, donor sibling pods, and more. There’s no single “correct” term, and the language isn’t static. Parents can offer language and model terminology, but children will develop their own ways of describing these relationships. Your job isn’t to prescribe the right term. It’s to ensure your child has the words they need to reflect their experience. It’s important to remember that while we can personally prefer certain terms within our families, our children still need a way to talk about donor conception that is accessible to a kid on the playground.

Genetic connection is information; relationship is a choice.

Co-Parent Readiness and Alignment

Before pursuing same-donor connections, primary caregivers should honestly assess their own emotional readiness. This means examining whether the desire for connection comes from what you believe will serve your child or from something else. It means considering whether you can hold space for your child’s curiosity about these connections without feeling threatened or defensive and whether you can accept your child’s disinterest without feeling you’ve failed to provide something important. It also means reflecting on whether you could support a child who becomes deeply invested in these relationships without feeling replaced or diminished.

These reflections don’t have “right” answers, but unexamined feelings can inadvertently shape how you present options to your child. Working with an informed therapist can help you distinguish between your needs and your child’s.

When multiple caregivers are involved in raising a child, they might have different feelings about same-donor connections: comfort levels with contact, views on what these relationships could mean, concerns about privacy or boundaries, and capacity for the emotional labor involved. These differences need to be acknowledged before engaging.

Feelings about the donor conception journey itself can create particular tensions. One caregiver may see same-donor connection as exciting, while another experiences it as a painful reminder of a complicated path to becoming a family. One caregiver might want to avoid connection to maintain a sense of “normal” family, while another feels guilty about denying the child access. These decisions can stir up questions about genetic lineage, physical resemblance, and inherited traits. These dynamics deserve attention.

Alignment doesn’t mean all caregivers need to be equally enthusiastic; it means everyone needs to be genuinely on board with whatever level of engagement is pursued, even if one is driving it more. One person’s excitement about connection can’t override another’s boundary concerns, and one person’s discomfort shouldn’t unilaterally close off all possibilities without honest conversation about what’s going on. And “we need to align first” can’t become an indefinite delay tactic.

If you’ve facilitated same-donor connections and your child later decides they don’t want to maintain them, you may experience your own grief about the relationships you built with other families, about the vision you had of expanded family, and about the effort you invested. This grief is valid, but it belongs to you, not your child. Seeking support for your own feelings while maintaining your child’s autonomy is essential. Similarly, if your child wants deeper connection than you feel equipped to provide, you may grieve your capacity limitations while still trying to meet their needs.

Navigating Between-Family Differences

Same-donor family connections often bring together people with very different approaches to parenting, privacy, disclosure, communication, boundaries, and politics. These differences are inevitable and don’t need to be resolved; what matters is whether families can respect each other’s approaches while safely maintaining connection.

This means families must be clear about their own values and boundaries and recognize that they can only control their own family’s behavior and choices. No family can dictate how other families talk about donor conception, how much contact they want, what information they share with their children, or how they frame the relationship. What they can control is whether and how they engage, what boundaries they set, what information they share, and how they help their child navigate differences between families.

Some differences are manageable: different preferred terminology, different approaches to screen time, and different comfort levels with sharing personal details. But some differences aren’t acceptable bases for a relationship: families that express homophobia, racism, or other forms of bigotry; families that ask you to lie to your child or hide information; families that violate boundaries repeatedly or create unsafe dynamics. When values clash in ways that compromise your child’s safety or wellbeing, reducing or ending contact is valid. These connections should enhance your child’s sense of belonging, not require them to navigate harm for the sake of genes.

Ok, But What About the Research?

There is no quantitative research (to my knowledge) designed to examine outcomes related to early disclosure of or connection with donor siblings. We have research (mostly qualitative, mostly from white, educated, middle-class populations) that includes queries about DCP and recipient parents’ experiences with searching for and connecting with donor siblings and their families. We have lots of anecdotal data from late-discovery adult DCP and early-disclosure/late-connection adult DCP who choose to share in public online spaces. I’ve provided a bibliography of research published in the last decade at the end of the post.

Sørensen et al’s (2025) ESHRE poster (I look forward to the publication of the full paper!) describes major themes from an analysis of 18 papers about DCP’s reactions to having a large number of donor siblings. Some experience curiosity and interest in learning more, while others feel indifferent or express concern about the implications. When donor-conceived people do want to connect with their donor siblings, they often face real challenges in forming and maintaining relationships. The complexity of building meaningful bonds with large groups of genetic strangers scattered across different geographic locations presents ongoing practical and emotional obstacles. And it’s not at all uncommon to see donor-conceived adults say they regret connecting with their donor siblings so late in life and missing years of shared childhood. For some DCP, having donor siblings provides a valuable sense of connection and belonging. These relationships can become an important part of what it means to be donor-conceived.

A few researchers have examined the motivations for connecting among both parents and DCP across different family types. Parents’ motivations for searching are typically related to expanding their child’s support network, curiosity about physical and behavioral traits, and access to medical information (Goldberg, 2015; Hertz, 2017). For DCP, both adolescent and adult, motivations included curiosity about the donor and potential siblings, learning more about themselves through unique and shared characteristics, gaining access to medical information, and, for some, the potential to expand their family network (Persaud, 2017; Hertz, 2017; Indekeu, 2022, Scheib, 2020).

I want to highlight a few studies for folks who want a deeper dive. I’m also hoping that the Swedish Study on Gamete Donation will explore this topic.

Hertz et al.’s (2022) study of 62 young people aged 14-28 offers insights into how same-donor relationships might develop. Families in this study primarily found each other through donor sibling registries, where parents of DCP searched by donor number. Parents typically initiated contact with other same-donor families: 88% of solo mother families, 89% of heterosexual-parent families, and 68% of same-sex parent families. When youth first learned about potential donor-linked siblings, they most frequently reported feeling surprise, confusion, and curiosity. Youth often relied on familiar ideas about siblings or friends to imagine what these relationships might become. Some hoped for “a true brother or sister,” while others expected something more like “a fun new friend group.” Youth raised as only children were twice as likely to regard donor siblings as “immediate family” compared to youth who had siblings in their household. Still, about 70% of all youth, regardless of household composition, formed meaningful relationships with at least one donor sibling. As youth entered their teen years, they generally established independent relationships with their donor siblings. One practical consideration: older same-donor family networks (i.e., those that have existed for over 5 years) were harder for new members to integrate into. The 2018 book Random Families: Genetic Strangers, Sperm Donor Siblings, and the Creation of New Kin (Hertz and Nelson) goes into much more detail on same-donor family connections.

Scheib et al. (2020) of The Sperm Bank of California interviewed 47 donor-conceived people aged 19–29 (almost half from female same-sex couples) to learn about their experiences with same-donor peers. About half were in contact with same-donor peers. Among those who had made contact, about half first connected in childhood or adolescence (typically initiated by parents), while the other half initiated contact as adults. Nearly all those who were not yet in contact expressed interest in connecting eventually. Of the 22 who had linked with same-donor peers, most had met in person, and over half maintained regular contact. Challenges were relatively rare. Only one participant described difficulties with a larger same-donor peer group, noting that when people differed in their interest in the donor, it could be polarizing. For some participants, what distinguished these relationships was their flexibility; they described how they could pause and resume easily. The connections had the potential to become important, if not immediately, perhaps in the future.

The National Longitudinal Lesbian Family Study (NLLFS) follows 75 donor-conceived offspring born from 1986-1992 to lesbian-couple families into adulthood. Koh (2023) found that around half of the offspring had donor siblings. Seven offspring (23% of those who had met donor siblings) had known their donor siblings since birth. More than three-quarters chose to make contact, and two-thirds of those people maintained ongoing relationships with at least one donor sibling. Regardless of whether participants knew their donor siblings, participants felt neutral about knowing siblings and satisfaction with the level of information they had about siblings was relatively high.

A Final Thought

All of these considerations — the benefits, the risks, the spectrum of connection — ultimately serve one purpose: ensuring that when your child is ready to decide what these relationships mean to them, you haven’t already decided for them. After all of that, the most important thing is also the simplest: give them the truth and the room to figure it out.

Being an admin of my kids’ donor sibling online forum has given me a somewhat unusual perspective. I’m simultaneously playing a role on behalf of my own children and on behalf of all the families in the group, and those two roles don’t always pull in the same direction. The admin hat creates obligations I might not otherwise feel: tracking details, managing boundaries, staying friendly even with families where I sense value conflicts, and ensuring equitable access to information. It’s given me a stake in the cohort as a whole, not just in my own kids’ needs, and it’s deepened my empathy for families whose choices differ from mine.

I opened this post by saying the question isn’t whether donor siblings must know each other, it’s about whether and how knowing each other might matter to your child and your family. What I want to emphasize now is that “mattering” looks different depending on your family. There are families in my kids’ group who are actively opting out of group connection. Some parents have decided this isn’t what serves their family right now—or maybe ever. I trust they’re making the best decisions for their children, even as I’m making different ones for mine. Their absence doesn’t represent failure or missing out; it represents families exercising autonomy about what their children need. The group will always be there if anything changes for them.

Meanwhile, I’m watching my kindergartener’s relationship to her half-siblings shift from something I’ve been loosely maintaining into something she’s actively shaping. We’ve been experimenting with letter writing, messaging, and phone calls, and it’s opened up this whole new realm of possibility that feels much more in her control. She’s an introvert who prefers one-on-one interactions. Group meetups have always been overwhelming for her, but in these individual conversations, I’m seeing something different emerge.

Recently, she was voice messaging with another child from the group. The exchange ended with: “I love you.” Then immediately: “I don’t really love you, just kidding.” Followed by: “But I do love you. It’s weird. I don’t know. Bye.” I loved that little back-and-forth. They’re still figuring out what their connection means, and they will figure it out, in their own time and their own way. I can be comfortable because my child is finding ways to navigate these relationships in ways that feel good to her, with families where she’s safe and welcome.

For me, forging same-donor connections isn’t about following best practices or meeting obligations. It’s about giving my kids one more way to potentially understand themselves and one more set of relationships to explore if they choose. I’ve laid a foundation. Whether or not they choose to build upon that is up to them.

Bibliography

Andreassen, et al. (2025). Sprouting sideways: queer temporalities and kinship in donor conception. DOI: 10.1080/13691058.2024.2446260

Blyth, E. (2012). Genes r us? Making sense of genetic and non-genetic relationships following anonymous donor insemination. DOI: 10.1016/j.rbmo.2012.02.010

Bolt, et al. (2023) The ongoing work of kinship among donor half-siblings in The Netherlands. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41292-021-00259-z

Goldberg & Scheib (2015). Female-partnered and single women’s contact motivations and experiences with donor-linked families. https://doi.org/10.1093/humrep/dev077

Goldberg & Scheib (2016). Female-partnered women conceiving kinship: Does sharing a sperm donor mean we are family? https://doi.org/10.1080/10894160.2016.1089382

Hertz, et al. (2017). Donor sibling networks as a vehicle for expanding kinship: A replication and extension. https://doi.org/10.1177/0192513X16631018

Hertz & Nelson (2018). Random families. Genetic strangers, sperm donor siblings, and the creation of new kin. Oxford University Press.

Hertz, R. (2022). Sociological accounts of donor siblings’ experiences: Their importance for self-identity and new kinship relations. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph19042002

Indekeu, et al. (2022). Meeting multiple same-donor offspring: psychosocial challenges. https://doi.org/10.1080/14647273.2021.1872804

Koh, et al. (2023). Donor sibling relations among adult offspring conceived via insemination by lesbian parents. https://doi.org/10.1093/humrep/dead175

Nelson, et al. (2013). Making sense of donors and donor siblings: A comparison of the perceptions of donor-conceived offspring in lesbian-parent and heterosexual-parent families. https://doi.org/10.1108/S1530-3535(2013)0000007004

Persaud, et al. (2017). Adolescents conceived through donor insemination in mother-headed families: A qualitative study of motivations and experiences of contacting and meeting same-donor offspring. https://doi.org/10.1111/chso.12158

Scheib, et al. (2020). Finding people like me: Contact among young adults who share an open-identity sperm donor. https://doi.org/10.1093/hropen/hoaa057

Sørensen, et al. (2025) Donor-conceived persons’ experiences of (possibly) having multiple donor half-siblings: A systematic literature review and thematic synthesis. https://doi.org/10.1093/humrep/deaf097.854

Rothblum, et al. (2024). Adult offspring of lesbian parents reflect on having been donor conceived: Feelings about their sperm donor and donor siblings. https://dx.doi.org/10.1037/cfp0000256

Zeghiche, et al. (2024). “There might be two hundred of us”- a qualitative study on the experience of meeting large numbers of same donor offspring https://doi.org/10.1093/humrep/deae108.263