I'm a queer parent who used a sperm donor. Here's how I told my kids where they came from.

• My ex-partner and I used a sperm donor to have three children.
• As a nonbiological and nonbinary parent, I made sure my children knew how they were conceived.

Because I'm a queer parent, people often nosily ask my ex and me how we formed our family. They often ask how my three kids have blue eyes when their mother has dark-brown ones. I often just say, "The sperm was strong," and then watch the person squirm with discomfort.

My ex and I never felt any shame or need for secrecy when it came to explaining how we had our three children using a sperm donor. And as the nonbiological and nonbinary parent of my kids, I was always more sensitive to and aware of the connections I wanted to make with them.

I had no issue falling in love and creating bonds with my kids, but figuring out how to navigate the story of our family took a bit more effort. It took choosing to make it an important and open part of our relationship.

We needed sperm, so with a lot of planning and consideration, we bought some

My three kids — a singleton born in 2011 and twins who came in 2013 — were conceived with my ex-partner's eggs, her uterus, and donor sperm purchased from a cryobank.

The conversations became a bit more reproductively detailed as my kids got older, but we started simple in the beginning: I and my kids' other parent picked a donor who had my qualities and physical characteristics.

Now there's a baby picture of the donor on the refrigerator, and we all agree that he looked a lot like one of my three kids when they were the same age. But it took some careful conversations to explain how this donor fit into our family.

I started talking to my kids about their sperm donor with a simple biology lesson

When my first child was about 2 ½ years old, we started talking about how our family was made.

I told her she was conceived the same way all babies are created: science. When sperm meets an egg and cells start to split in an environment ideal for sustainability, life happens. In her case, I had to explain where the sperm came from because neither I nor her other parent had any.

We used intentional language and picture books that illustrated our conversation — the cute cartoon eggs and sperm were great visuals when talking about our donor.

The books helped facilitate many of the conversations with the kids

To introduce my oldest to the story of her sperm donor, we turned to "What Makes a Baby" by Cory Silverberg. The book offers inclusive language for all genders and families, as well as simple text and vibrant cartoons. It makes it easy to understand that some people have eggs and some people have sperm but that there's always someone who loves you and was so excited when you were born.

"Zak's Safari" by Christy Tyner is another book we read often. The book focuses on a little boy's journey through understanding his donor-conceived story and was a great narrative to go along with the biological facts our kids understood.

We also relied on our community to help explain

Through the cryobank's sibling registry, we met another couple who had used the same donor. We established a long-distance relationship with that family when our kids were infants. With six small kids between two families, we formed bonds of solidarity early on.

We often exchanged emails and video chats. When the three oldest — our first child and their set of twins — were toddlers, we all met for the first time in real life. After a few more meetups, and as the three got older, we wanted them to know they weren't only each other's chosen family: They were connected by DNA.

By the time all six kids were born, we had explained that the sperm used to make all of them had come from the same donor. The kids are siblings, connected by blood, rivalry, and affection.

I talked to my kids early so the door would be open for conversations

Sure, our donor's baby photo hangs in our kitchen, and the kids can see parts of themselves in that image. But my kids also all resemble me. Their blue eyes, blond hair, sharp cheekbones, stubbornness, and quick wit exist thanks to both nature and nurture.

In posting that photo in the kitchen and talking openly about what it all means, I wanted my kids to know our family's story was no less important or valid than any other family's story. All families are different; queerness was a piece of that but not a limiting or shameful factor. Shame comes from secrecy, so I chose very early on not to keep any part of their story a secret.

My kids also know that someday they can choose to meet their sperm donor if they want to. My kids are 12 and 9, and they each have different feelings about doing so, but it's their choice.

The coolest part is that they know this and are equally bored and happy about how they were conceived.