An American sold an egg to pay for college, and she's not alone: ​​is it worth doing such a procedure for the money

A New Yorker sold her eggs for an Ivy League education - was it worth it, reports TheGuardian.

Photo: Shutterstock

More women are selling their eggs for up to $ 20 per cycle to cover their basic costs.

Ellie Hutling, a student from New York, woke up in the hospital. She was surrounded by four nurses who held her upside down. They shook her back and forth, forcing the blood back to her head. When she regained consciousness, she wondered: was it worth it? The $ 10 question.

Seven months ago, the New Yorker entered the journalism department at Columbia University. She was absolutely stunned when she was accepted, but what was even more shocking was the $116 price tag—and that was just for tuition.

The school, which is considered the gold standard of journalism, will provide her with unprecedented access to an industry in which she currently felt unpromising.

Fortunately, most of the costs will be covered by scholarships. As for the remaining rent and living expenses, the student was looking for something else to make up for the missing amount.

“I fell into a growing industry that offers struggling people huge sums of cash relatively quickly: egg donation,” says the student.

“It’s 32 degrees on a June morning in New York. My green satin skirt sticks to my legs as I rush to the main office of the egg donation clinic to undergo another screening - a urine test. - recalls Ellie Hutling. - For the past four months, I have been lying to my somewhat conservative family about where I ran off to. this early morning: secretly coming for medical and psychological examinations to donate her eggs.”

Outside of her family, she more often says that she is “selling eggs.”

Donation is a term that should reflect the fact that the woman's time is being paid, not the cost of her eggs. But there was an industry here offering her more than she ever earned from a regular job.

“Saying that I’m selling seems more honest,” says the student.

“In the clinic's main office, Amy Winehouse's deep voice plays softly through a nearby speaker. As I look around the waiting room with its pale gray accents on the walls, I quickly realize that I am the only woman sitting alone. I exchange glances with giggling couples and wonder if they consider me a possible donor,” Ellie Hoetling describes her visit to the clinic.

Some time after her arrival, the nurse calls her name.

She leads Ellie Hootling to a chair in the hallway: about a dozen bubbles tinkle on the tray attached to her.

“The space feels cold and sterile. The silence is oppressive. “I’m trying to remember if I had breakfast - no,” says the girl.

The nurse sits down and cuffs her arm.

“Nice veins,” says the nurse.

After a nurse has filled eight or so vials of blood, Ellie Hootling collapses and passes out.

When she wakes up, the nurses lift her into the air. In a semi-conscious and confused state, she listens to an apology.

She is escorted to the gynecological chair in a nearby exam room and given a pineapple-flavored lollipop.

“I lean my head back on the cold chair. Another nurse enters, holding up several more vials. I roll up my sleeve and extend my other hand. Time for the second round,” the student recalls.

She called the egg donation clinic for the first time in March 2021, minutes before she attended Columbia Journalism School's orientation day.

“I first heard about donation from a friend during my undergraduate studies. I knew I wouldn't be able to take time away from work while attending Columbia University full-time. In addition, the school administration directly reminded us that we should avoid working while studying,” says Ellie Hoetling.

On the subject: Medicine in the USA: why the prices for the same services can vary greatly

The Google search that led her to her new career choice was simple: “Egg Donation Agencies in New York City.”

Donors are paid thousands every year to provide eggs to expectant parents. The CDC found that in less than a decade, the number of IVF cycles using donor eggs has nearly tripled, from about 5000 in 2007 to more than 13000 in 2016.

“The woman on the phone was cheerful but thorough as she described the process. In contrast, my first visit to the clinic's Soho office was impersonal. During the ultrasound I was shocked when I looked at the contents of my ovaries and uterus, my doctor talked about me to the nurse, but not to me,” recalls Ellie Hoetling.

In the traditional doctor-patient relationship, the physician's demeanor at the patient's bedside is of fundamental importance.

In the US, where healthcare is privatized and people weigh doctors as if their health was a commercial deal, healthcare facilities treat you well because they want you to come back.

“My first day in Soho made me realize that this time I was not a patient. I was a product,” the donor recalls.

The first blood test was sent to the genetic testing laboratory Sema4, which tested 283 candidate genes for hundreds of diseases.

These have ranged from cystic fibrosis and fragile X syndrome, which has been linked to autism, to maple syrup urine disease, a disease in which the body cannot process certain amino acids.

“I tested positive as a carrier of three genetic conditions: dystrophic epidermolysis bullosa, a condition in which the skin becomes so fragile that it easily blisters and breaks, leaving severe scarring; metachromatic leukodystrophy is a rare genetic disease; and nonsyndromic hearing loss. “I felt a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity when I heard the results, although the clinic assured me that it was normal to test positive for a small handful of genetic disorders,” says Ellie Hoetling.

Epidermolysis bullosa is incurable, and people born with the condition are at increased risk for an extremely aggressive form of skin cancer.

“The Sema4 representative playfully advised me not to fall in love with Finns, who are more likely to have the same skin condition,” says the student.

“This information opened a window to another world for me: where everyone is a carrier of disease, including me,” says the student. “I was forced to face the reality that I could pass on complex disorders to my children that I had never thought possible.”

The clinic not only assessed her predisposition to genetic disorders, but also assessed other characteristics: blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin.

“During screenings, team members subtly complimented descriptions of my body, personality, and Ivy League education. But in what manner did I expect them to build a relationship with me? They paid me $10 for the eggs. The very nature of our business revolved around my body,” says Ellie Hoetling.

In May, at the very beginning of the process, the clinic made the donor talk to their psychologist.

“Lounging in a hammock on the balcony, I became acquainted with the philosophy of the clinic. My eggs were not “mine,” and “my eggs” were definitely not synonymous with “my baby.” Rather, they considered my eggs to be part of a larger gene pool that spanned generations and geographic regions,” Ellie Hoetling recalls.

She was worried that the psychologist was assessing her mental health in an attempt to detach her from the process, but as we talked, she realized that the psychologist was actually trying to figure out if she was smart enough to make the decision to donate eggs.

The psychologist conducted an IQ test. This was a New York State ordinance.

“The idea that my eggs were not “mine,” but rather some kind of genetic connection to the past, seemed strange and uncomfortable to me at first, but over time I began to prefer this idea to my own,” says the student. “I didn’t give up on “my” child by refusing another period. This will help struggling parents conceive their own children. There was something useful about it.”

She says that the thought of a small child like her wandering the world warmed her heart.

“I began to realize that I wanted to have my own children one day, and part of me yearned for the experience I was offering to someone else. I imagined a mother who would take my eggs,” says Ellie Hutling.

And she continues to think about the future mother who will take her egg: “Will she be cheerful? What school lunches will she pack? Will she be compassionate and patient? Will she hold the baby's hand often? Did her moral values ​​reflect my own? I will never know about this. My donation was anonymous from start to finish.”

By the summer, the clinic had canceled the contraceptives that the student was taking.

“A few days before my egg retrieval date, I was sitting on the edge of my bed feeling really anxious,” says Ellie Hutling. “It was late and in the silence I felt the peace leave me as I put down one of the last bottles of medicine. and a syringe of 250 micrograms of Ganirelix on a table stand.”

“Learning how to inject myself with hormones twice a day took some mental gymnastics. Each medicine had its own ritual,” she says.

In the morning, the yellow and blue plastic pen administered 225ml of Follistim, clicking as Ellie Hutling pushed the pen down to inject the chilled serum. In the evenings she mixed a bottle of Menopur. Together, the two drugs stimulated the follicles in her ovaries to release 10 to 20 eggs—usually only one egg is released during ovulation.

Photo: Shutterstock

A few days before extraction, Ganirelix prevented ovulation by allowing the eggs to mature before they descend into the donor's uterus for removal.

“This last stage stunned me. The balance of daily injections and 7am ultrasounds has left me exhausted and tired. There was one more obstacle on the horizon: the search. I ran my hand over my stomach, feeling the tender injection sites and the bulge underneath, not wanting to have surgery but also knowing it was too late to change anything. I grabbed my first syringe of Ganirelix and took a deep breath,” recalls Ellie Hutling.

She interviewed a dozen women of all ages and backgrounds about their personal donor experiences.

Unlike fertility forums for people undergoing IVF or surrogacy, there was no clear online place where donors could support each other in the egg donation process.

Instead, Ellie Hootling found them scattered across private Facebook groups, WhatsApp chats, and Reddit.

Most were donors around the age of 20 and all participated in financial compensation. There was a salary scale that was largely determined by geographic location and time of donation, and ranged from $ 3000 to $ 20.

The women used the money to pay bills, student loans, or vacations.

Some donors found potential parents or agencies through ads posted on Facebook or Instagram. Others have found this way to make money on Craigslist by responding to advertisements that are no different from those looking to sell a bike, apartment, or car.

" Women! Earn $10 with Egg Donation."

“Egg donors from China, Vietnam, Korea and Asia earn $10.”

“I am looking for a highly intelligent egg donor! Compensation up to $40.”

Because these advertisements are sometimes posted directly by Intended Parents, they may have shorter or less rigorous initial application processes and may offer significantly higher monetary amounts than agencies or clinics have traditionally offered.

But accessing unverified ads comes with obvious risks.

In 2011, an Idaho woman was charged with fraud for stealing eggs from donors through Craigslist. She never paid the agreed amount after receiving the eggs.

In an effort in part to make the process safer, organizations have begun linking donors and intended parents through their own verified databases.

Prospective parents can now view the profiles of thousands of potential donors, just like on a dating site.
Circle Surrogacy offers non-anonymous couples where the donor has the ability to meet and interact with families.

Jordan Waley Finnerty's profile features a picture of her 27-year-old daughter smiling next to her mom. Waley did this when she was XNUMX years old.

It was 2018, after a wine night with a friend who had just donated herself, - Finnerty was intrigued, especially by the $ 900 lump sum. She wasn't desperate for money, but she knew it would help her stop living paycheck to paycheck. She applied that night and forgot about it.

“Four months later, I was giving blood,” Finnerty said.

Since then, Finnerty has donated four times.

“It wasn’t until I was introduced to the family and talked to them that I realized the impact,” Finnerty said. “You can’t imagine what couples have to go through to have children.”

She had contact with all the families to whom she gave her eggs.

The gratitude of her parents changed her mind. Now her favorite component of donation is a good deed, not money: she plans to become a donor 6 times - the maximum that is recommended.

However, she acknowledges certain challenges in the industry.

"When they talk to intended parents, they talk about how weird it is to look at girls' profiles and look at their health history based on their preferences for hair color or eye color," Finnerty said.

But she also knows that people are constantly making these choices with their partners.

In a recent opinion released by the American Society for Reproductive Medicine, which discourages agencies from compensating donors more than $10, the society found that 000% of donors who received up to $88 for their eggs responded on a self-report questionnaire that “the ability to help someone " was their biggest motivation.

"I think people assume there's a sense of compulsion, but there really isn't," said Deborah Meserode, who runs MyEggBank, the largest network of egg donation banks in the United States.

Their policy is to offer one flat fee as payment, up to a maximum of $ 10.

Meserod believes that the experience is very useful for potential donors thanks to training and free genetic testing, even if they decide not to complete the donation.
“There is always an opportunity to withdraw from the process,” she said.

You may be interested in: top New York news, stories of our immigrants, and helpful tips about life in the Big Apple - read it all on ForumDaily New York.

While many women admit that they are attracted to the amount they can earn from their eggs, most still saw it as an option.

“The first and second time, I was unemployed or barely working, so in some ways I needed the money, but I wasn’t desperate for it,” explains Dolan Wells Gallagher, who has donated her eggs three times already. The first and second times she used the money to cover rent, and the third time to pay for tuition.

There are insufficient data and long-term studies on egg donation.

In 2016, a new study found that fertility drugs may be linked to the development of uterine cancer.

A 2017 report from The Donor Sibling Registry found suspicious cases of breast cancer in healthy young donors with no genetic predisposition to the disease, and cited hormone therapy at the time of donation as a possible cause.

“A lack of information may be misinterpreted as a lack of risk,” the report warns.

Four years later, there is still no semblance of a long-term database for monitoring donor health.

In addition, while health data is tracked for those who donate organs, the same information is not required for egg donation: donation agencies must request past health information about donors, and even so, they are at the mercy of donors, voluntarily doing it. And tell the truth when they do.

Most of them do not ask about medical changes after the start of the process.

In the meantime, thousands of young donors undergo egg removal and hormonal treatment every year, with no one understanding the implications.

“Having a donor registry would be such a great tool for so many different reasons, because you could collect data from the donor about their condition and their future well-being in the coming years,” explains Meserod, who believes that legislation and federal government intervention will help solve this problem. problem.

But most women aren't too bogged down in the effects of long-term health complications.

Most of them needed money. When the cycle ends, donors leave and do not think about the future consequences.

“Up until the very end of my first donation, I felt positive about my experience. Despite fainting; a feeling of objectification and, despite the daily injections, I still liked it. I felt comfort and satisfaction knowing that I was helping people achieve their dreams,” says Ellie Hoetling.

But in the last days before the operation, she felt insecure.

“I felt at the mercy of the clinic. Meetings were held in places I didn't like. Some days I didn't get updates on how much medication I should take and I had to just take the shot based on the dosage. I only found out when my surgery would be two days before the event,” she says.

The day before the operation, the student asked the nurse directly why they were ordering operations with such a small gap in time. The nurse didn't know.

“I felt neglected and angry,” says Ellie Hootling. “The company was not paying attention to me, and I suddenly had to plan everything myself to make sure someone could still pick me up from surgery the next day.”

“As the week passed, my enlarged ovaries sat heavily in my stomach, like a fat and unpleasant reminder,” she recalls.

After her last meeting at the hospital with staff, she wrote in her diary: “At this stage I really feel left in the dark and I really don't want to deal with these people anymore. I wonder if the woman receiving my eggs is more aware than I am."

However, she was looking forward to the $ 10 check.

Life in New York, one of the most expensive cities in the world, took its toll on her wallet every day.
Receiving that check relieved her anxiety for several months, allowing her to return to school stress-free—study that would give her the confidence to pursue her dream job. “Each item was a stepping stone to the future I desperately wanted,” says Ellie Hoetling.

The operation lasted a total of seven minutes, and she lay at home for a day and a half as she had a stomach ache.

The clinic did not offer her painkillers, so she lived on a Tylenol and Advil cocktail.

“Fortunately, my pain was not too severe,” she wrote a couple of lines in her diary, reflecting on the procedure as a whole. -I would think about doing it again. I do worry about how it will affect my body, but the impact on my life has been positive. I don’t know if I can deny it.”

Read also on ForumDaily:

World's first pill to treat COVID-19 approved

Scientists: insomnia may be an early sign of a fatal illness

Biden Administration Will Expand COVID-19 Vaccination Requirements: $14 Fine for Failure to Comply

Do you want more important and interesting news about life in the USA and immigration to America? — support us donate! Also subscribe to our page Facebook. Select the “Priority in display” option and read us first. Also, don't forget to subscribe to our РєР ° РЅР ° Р »РІ Telegram  and Instagram- there is a lot of interesting things there. And join thousands of readers ForumDaily New York — there you will find a lot of interesting and positive information about life in the metropolis.