Sure, the money caught my eye. The ad in the classifieds under "Miscellaneous" shouts in bold letters, "$35,000 for your eggs." Flip the page and look - it's still there. But here's a secret - it's bogus! Two days after leaving my name and number on an answering machine, my phone rang, and I found myself talking with a reporter. It turns out there is no "loving, childless couple" as the ad professes. Rather, the ad is a front, written by the reporter to sound as authentic as possible so women would call her 1-800 number and unwittingly deliver themselves as perfect interviewees through relatively little effort on her part.
To her credit, I will say the reporter did identify herself as such at the beginning of her call. Apparently she'd only carry her deception so far. But the line is more arbitrary than it might seem, as she had already clearly misrepresented herself. Why not get even more candid insight by posing as the wife of the "childless couple?" I guess she thought that the use of deception in researching her story should only go so far.
I was at first torn over how to respond to her call. I have an ingrained sense of wanting to help people out, and, as one who myself has considered a career in journalism, I felt a certain twinge of kinship. She was trying to write an article.
She told me this was the only way to guarantee authentic interviewees. I disagree. She could have placed an ad that told the truth, that she was writing an article about high-priced, school-specific (Ivies/ Stanford/ MIT etc.) egg donation, and was looking for sincere reactions from women at these schools.
I certainly had no shame about the many thoughts I had on the issue. At that point, however, I was as much driven by curiosity as anything else. I knew few of the details involved in the actual process of donating eggs. The reporter immediately equated my calling with my irreconcilably agreeing to submit myself to whatever process might ensue. She asked a line of intensely personal questions that seemed fed by an underlying assumption that I was just some greedy reckless teenager out merely to profit off of the physical and intellectual traits I was lucky enough to be born with.
She used the word "prostitution." Not in an accusatory way, but as another way of looking at the issue. The word stuck with me, although I disagree. These eggs live their little life spans whether I use them or not. But that feature applies to all egg donations, including the vast majority, where the donor is paid between $2,500 and $5,000. In addition to this, a feature that this reporter was examining was why students in "Top Ten" schools should be offered up to ten times this amount. As The D reported last term, an ad was recently placed offering $50,000 to a tall blonde with blue eyes and a minimum SAT score. The ethics surrounding this are definitely worth examining.
From the perspective of someone who meets the description, the ad can effect the feeling of possibly winning the lottery. $35,000 is a good deal of money, especially to an unemployed student who will be on her own in a year with plenty of new expenses. For all I knew, the risks were minimal. I might meet the family and get a genuinely good feeling about them.
Since the call, I've stayed up nights thinking about this. Is it something I could do? I will say that the situation would have to be exceptional for me to go through with the process. Though small, there is a risk of complications that could render a donor infertile. The reporter made this very clear to me.
I know I could not donate anonymously; the vibe I got from the family would make a difference to me, even though the child wouldn't be mine in any sense other than genetic. An emotional interest, however irrational, would require such context. In the modern process of egg donation, I don't know how much the donor is allowed to know, even in the cases where the donor meets the parents. The only people I can say for sure I'd be comfortable donating to are certain close friends, as well as my sister. All people whom I know thoroughly. And in none of these cases would I ever accept any payment.
There was yet another element that I didn't consider right away. With that much money involved, what if the baby is anything less than perfect? In such a case, many parents may choose to abort the pregnancy and try again with another egg, or another donor. I, as the primary donor, would understandably have no say in the decision. I don't think I could go through that. Even with my sister or a close friend, I would have to know that she wouldn't abort the pregnancy for any reason other than to save her own life. Accordingly, I'd have to be in a situation where I'd otherwise have the means to provide for the child myself, which ideally would mean married and with a steady income. Obviously, sitting here as a college student where my biggest responsibility is tomorrow's Russian test, I'm years away from that.
This is a tough issue. The money's great. But the only situations where it would be worth it to me are the same handful for which I wouldn't accept a cent.
