The question of how much egg donors should be compensated is a tough and complicated question.
The NY Times has published two articles about egg donor compensation after a group of egg donors filed a lawsuit alleging they were undercompensated for their donations. The first piece is a reported article about the topic, and the second an op-ed piece.
Personally, I feel of multiple, conflicting minds on this. My first reaction is that egg donors aren't donors in this country and should be able to name their price. But my second thought is that of a clinical researcher. Some of the trials I run offer clinical compensation, and I am expressly forbidden by the Institutional Review Board from offering too much compensation, because that might coerce someone to enroll in a trial just for the financial benefit who wasn't truly comfortable. So from that vantage point, it seems there should be limits.
As a potential user of donor eggs, I was sent an egg donor profile from an agency yesterday and the donor is requesting $35,000 compensation. That's on top of the hefty fees for the agency and the clinic. Which is OMG yowza. She is smart and attractive and she's cycled before, but $35,000 - really? Mostly I've seen agency donors receiving compensation in the $5,000 to $10,000 range. Besides $35,000 being way more than we could ever afford, it seems ethically dicey to be priced beyond a certain amount (on the other hand, I was saddened that at least one woman in the NYT article was compensated only $2,000 for her cycle, which seems far too little). The articles also raise the question of how much the agencies and clinics profit off of these women, and that seems a fair question. It shouldn't be that the agency gets $20,000 and the donor only $5,000, when she is the one going through a somewhat invasive and emotionally wearing process.
I don't have the answers, but of course this lawsuit, and these articles come at an interesting time, since we are considering this route ourselves.
I was curious what others think about egg donation and compensation. Should there be limits? What is fair to all?
I just wanted to say a quick hello. I'm not out the other side of this loss emotionally, but if I waited to post until that happened, it might be a long wait until my next post. I think that most of the physical aspects of the loss are behind me: the night sweats have ceased and I think the majority of the steroid tapering yuckiness* too. The sadness persists.
I don't know where we are going to go from here. Whether we will decide to just have our family be Magpie and us or make another attempt, this time using donor eggs. I've been tentatively exploring various donor egg scenarios (frozen, agency, clinic, etc.) to behaviorally try out how I feel about that. I know that I would be ok with a donor egg baby emotionally, and finding the exact "right" donor doesn't seem to matter quite so much as it used to (Magpie makes it so obvious that each child just is themselves, regardless of where the egg and sperm come from).
I think I mostly wish I could know that if we go the donor egg route that it will work (is it too much to want a guarantee?!), and that we could relatively quickly move forward with our family. I don't think I have a whole lot more stamina left for multiple attempts, and financially it's a significant strain on our resources as well.
I also don't know for sure how Will is feeling about the possibility of using donor eggs. I think he is open to it, but like me he is tired and worn down by the past years trying to conceive (8 years and 9 pregnancies. Gah). He's also a very interior person and so I know there is definitely a process going on inside of him, but I know enough to leave him be and not prod him to try to talk about the process too much too early, especially as right now I'm a bit all over the place, which he would find challenging to tolerate.
Poor Will has been down with an awful GI bug on top of everything else, so it is definitely not the right timing to discuss this on multiple levels. He knows I'm thinking about the donor route (and I'm guessing he is too, in his own way), and he knows I've made an appointment for us at a well regarded local clinic that has a fairly open policy about donor eggs. It's in mid-November and so we should have genetics back by that point, and I'm guessing I'll know how I feel by that time and that we will have been able to have a few conversations about it. I already know for certain I don't want to linger too long here in grief and indecision land, no matter what direction we are heading in.
I will try not to lapse into blog silence as I'm in this difficult place.
I greatly appreciate all of your thoughts and comments. So thank you.
* "Yucky" is one of Magpie's current favorite words. I don't know where she learned it, but it's her go-to word to express that she is upset or doesn't want to do something. "That quesadilla is yucky" (I don't want to eat it). "Mommy, you are yucky!" (I'm asking her to do something unbearable, like put on her pajamas). Ah, to be almost 3.
I saw my wonderful OB on Monday for what was supposed to have been my 8w1d first OB appointment but was instead a discussion on whether to medically terminate pregnancy #9 or have a D&C. She graciously offered to fit me in the following day for a D&C in the OR, and I opted for that. I don't know if getting the genetics on this pregnancy back will help me with healing and moving on, but I figured it cannot hurt. On the off chance this pregnancy was chromosomally aneuploid, that information would help. And if it is euploid again like loss #6, well... more complicated, but more information is more information, and I'm a big information seeker, even if that information is too late to help me. I think. To be honest, I'm not sure, but in case it could help me accept this better, I thought I'd rather know.
The procedure was uncomplicated and straightforward and I had no problems from the anesthesia, so that was good. Strangely I woke up from the procedure physically sick with a head cold that I hadn't had a single symptom of one hour prior, and I've been sick the remainder of the week, with Magpie sick and out of school today as well. It's a real cold, not psychosomatic, but pretty incredible it came on so suddenly and at that specific time.
So I've been at work, and have been somewhat crampy since Tuesday afternoon, and I have a head cold, and I'm dragging a bit and very sad. Some of the dragging is the cold, and I think some of it is that I'm tapering off of prednisone. And my hormones are crashing, so I've been having drenching night sweats as well, which is emotionally painful because it somehow simultaneously makes me think of my upcoming menopause and reminds me of the drenching night sweats I had after I gave birth to Magpie, both of which are hard to think about right now.
Speaking of Magpie, I've been hugging her extra tight and smelling her Magpie smell and rubbing noses with her and giving her butterfly kisses with my eyelashes against her eyelashes (no wonder the poor kid is sick). And she's thrilled I can pick her up ("The doctor says you can hold me again? Really? Oh!!") And it helps. It helps so much that she is here. I think I would be beside myself in grief otherwise, because that's what used to really flatten me, the fear that we would never have a child, never make it out the other side, that our problems were insurmountable. They still seem that way but she is here, and she is so real and present and wonderful and alive and herself. I am so grateful.
But despite that, do you want to know the honest truth? I'm not doing so great over here.
I'm also kicking myself a little while I'm down, questioning why I ever thought I could hold onto a pregnancy and what in the world was I thinking? I'm terminally infertile. How could I not know this? How could I get my hopes up again, even in the limited way I allowed myself to? But of course those thoughts are not helpful, and they are probably not even accurate, although it is hard to tell what is accurate these days.
So that is where things are at today. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
So today was finally the official beta day for the Denver clinic. And we are up in the country far north of NYC. My husband Will a...
Mo and Will are a couple who traveled a much steeper than expected road to parenthood. First came love, then came marriage, then came 6 IVFs and 6 miscarriages. Fortunately, IVF #7 finally stuck in 2012. We are the proud and astounded parents of a 2.11-year-old girl and an enthusiastic boxer, still reeling with recurrent miscarriages, but thrilled to be parenting all the same.