![](https://www.rickilewis.com/rails/active_storage/representations/redirect/eyJfcmFpbHMiOnsibWVzc2FnZSI6IkJBaHBBeW40QVE9PSIsImV4cCI6bnVsbCwicHVyIjoiYmxvYl9pZCJ9fQ==--c150a0b2d6bfbc37a3843a775e95f1b155492260/eyJfcmFpbHMiOnsibWVzc2FnZSI6IkJBaDdCem9MWm05eWJXRjBTU0lJYW5CbkJqb0dSVlE2RkhKbGMybDZaVjkwYjE5c2FXMXBkRnNIYVFMZ0FXa0M0QUU9IiwiZXhwIjpudWxsLCJwdXIiOiJ2YXJpYXRpb24ifX0=--d00c0b801be2eac628730b2b4ffb891cbdd69dfe/sperm-meeting-egg-600x320.jpg)
"Our Father" is difficult to watch, especially if you've suddenly discovered as an adult that you have a never-known family of half-siblings, cousins, nieces, and nephews thanks to a long-ago sperm donation. One review dubs the series "Netflix's most gruesome real-life documentary yet."
It tells the tale of Indianapolis fertility physician Donald Cline, who used his sperm to inseminate at least 96 women (and counting) between 1979-1986. After years of being in the dark, the offspring have found each other thanks to diligent sleuthing by some of the half-siblings and DNA testing.
"The majority of us live in a 25-mile radius, some within minutes of Cline. I walk around and I could be related to anyone. I've probably met half sibs and we don't even know it," said a son named Guy.
To continue reading, go to Genetic Literacy Project, where this post first appeared.