A gift for life

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Moved by stories of couples unable to have children, Katie Broom decided to help an infertile woman by donating some of her eggs.

The phone rings. It’s Elaine. She tells me she has given birth to a baby boy. I am overjoyed, even though I have never met Elaine and will probably never meet the child. I offer my congratulations but instead, Elaine thanks me…

But let’s go back to the very beginning. My husband, David, and I are blessed with three beautiful children and my heart has always gone out to any person unable to have that, too. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I were in the same situation.

After my first child, Georga, was born I started reading Sydney’s Child magazine and noticed a column in the classifieds section about egg donors. I knew of sperm donors, but I’d never heard of egg donors before. Every month I would read pleas from infertile couples needing donor eggs and thought if I could ever help these people, I would. It always brought a tear to my eye because I had this beautiful little girl and here were people who couldn’t have that.

Then Bailey was born and later Flynn, and I still kept reading these heart-wrenching stories. I was 29 and I thought to myself, ‘If I’m going to do this, it needs to be now’. I felt I had definitely completed my family so I said to David, “I’ve got something I want you to read. I want to know what you think because I’m very interested in doing this.” A girlfriend of mine had been receiving IVF treatment, so I knew a bit about what was involved.

Initially, David didn’t give me any feedback so about five months later I showed him another magazine and said I really wanted to go ahead and help someone have a child. I was thrilled by his positive reaction: “Let’s do it,” he said. We had a good talk about it – what the consequences would be, how it would affect us, and whether it would affect our children. David’s a gentle, generous person so he felt it was great that I wanted to help someone out in this way. He completely supported me throughout the process.

However, it probably wasn’t until I picked up the phone and rang the IVF clinic from an advertisement in Sydney‘s Child that I was definite about going ahead. Denyse Asher, the IVF scientist at the practice, was very pleased to hear from me and suggested that David and I come in for a chat. She thought I sounded like an ideal candidate – I was under 35, healthy and already had children of my own.

When we met I was so impressed by Denyse’s warm and open attitude. Both she and Dr Joel Bernstein, the infertility specialist, were lovely to deal with and in all my subsequent appointments they never left me waiting for more than two minutes – a huge plus, considering I always had 10-month-old Flynn with me. Just sitting in the waiting room each time was an affirming experience. Seeing other women who were struggling to have children made me think, ‘how could I not do this?’.

Denyse explained exactly what was involved in donating eggs. I would need to have blood tests, use a nasal spray to suppress my own cycle and take daily injections to stimulate eggs to mature. I would also need to have ultrasounds to check how things were progressing and then have the eggs extracted under general anaesthetic. I didn’t feel scared when I heard about the injections and surgical extraction, because for me to put my life on hold for three months so someone else could have children – when I already had three – was nothing.

Denyse also explained I would not get paid and made it very clear there would be no gifts whatsoever. That was fine with me because I hadn’t expected anything. I just didn’t want to incur any medical expenses, but these would be covered by the recipient of the eggs. Denyse recommended David and I go away and think about things before getting back to her, but on the way home I told David I was sure I wanted to go ahead.

Next, David and I had to attend an in-depth session with a counsellor, who was anxious to know if I would be able to separate my feelings from the child. She wanted to know about my lifestyle, my family, my background and why I wanted to donate. She also let me know that down the track I might feel differently about the experience and that there would always be counselling available to me through the IVF clinic. Dr Bernstein would keep a record of my donation in case any child born from my eggs wanted to contact me in the future (after age 18). I said I was fine with that. In fact, I would be quite happy if in the future someone knocked on my door and said, ‘Thank you; you’re the reason I’m here‘. However, there is no way for me to track the child down, as I know only the name of the woman I donated eggs to and nothing else.

When I told some of my friends I was going to donate eggs, they were horrified. “That would be your child out there,” they kept saying. But the way I look at it, it’s an egg, not a baby.

I know he is half of me; it‘s half of my genes and he is part of me in every way, but to have a child is more than that. Having a child is about the pregnancy, the care and the nurturing. To me, my eggs are just something I have that someone else needs, so why not give them the opportunity to have a child? I don’t feel it’s my baby out there; just that he is something I did in my life and that makes me feel good.

At my next appointment with Dr Bernstein I had to have plenty of blood tests and sign a lot of paperwork. One of the points on the contract was that any ensuing child would have no right to my estate in the future – I hadn’t even thought of that. The only thing I insisted on knowing was the name, sex and birthday of any children born from my eggs. I wanted to be sure my own children were protected, in case one day they became romantically involved with that child. I do worry about that, because Flynn is not much older than the baby.

I was also told I could choose who would receive the eggs. It could have been someone who advertised in Sydney’s Child or I could leave it up to the clinic. I didn’t really care. “Go ahead with whoever you think,” I told them; although I did prefer to help someone who was older and had been trying for a long time.

Dr Bernstein had two ladies in mind who had long been waiting for eggs. One had suffered from early menopause and the other from some type of cancer. Religion didn’t bother me. All I said was that I wanted them to pick a stable environment.

Dr Bernstein gave me a bag containing the nasal spray, injections, detailed instructions and a diary in which to record everything. I left the clinic thinking, ‘this is exciting‘. That was until my hormones started to go crazy. The injections themselves (which had to be given in the stomach) weren’t too bad, but they made me feel horrible. It was like having premenstrual tension.

I would break down and cry at the drop of a hat and took offence at things that normally wouldn’t bother me. I remember going into the bathroom once and thinking, ‘why am I crying?‘.

My daughter Georga was curious to know what was going on so I explained it to her in a basic way. She thought it was great: “So I’m going to have a brother or sister?” she asked. “No, it will be a part of you, but it’s not your brother or sister,” I responded. I wanted her to be clear about that. I always try to teach my children to help others if they can and this was a good way to model this value. I want them to know it’s good to give and treat others as they would like to be treated themselves.

Emotional ups and downs aside, the hormonal stimulation period brought some amusing moments with it, too. One day I was helping out in the canteen at an eisteddfod that Georga was dancing in, so I hid my injection at the back of the fridge. Some time later I saw the woman who runs the eisteddfod pick up the injection pack and say, “Whose is this? What’s going on here?” I had forgotten to have the injection and had to call David in straight away to give it to me. Of course, I had to explain to everyone what was going on. Imagine how good I felt when one of the women just put her arms around me and hugged me.

When the big day to have the eggs retrieved arrived I felt quite nervous. I was told that when I woke up from the anaesthetic there would be a number written on my hand saying how many eggs I had produced. I was thrilled when I saw it was 26. The staff made a big fuss of it, too, so I knew it was a good result. As I had produced so many eggs, Dr Bernstein asked if I would be willing to share them among two women. Why not?

David took me home afterwards and I felt fine. I wasn’t in any pain. The next morning, however, my stomach was swollen and I was quite uncomfortable. It turned out I was suffering from hyper-stimulation, so I had to go on a cycle of antibiotics. When I told Denyse I had to take a week off work, she rang the women I had donated eggs to straight away, and together they paid my wages for the week. They both rang to wish me well and one even sent flowers.

I was disappointed at first when neither of the women became pregnant. I didn’t want it all to have been for nothing.

It was a good two years later that the clinic rang to say one of the women was pregnant. I remember saying a silent prayer that she would be able to carry the baby to term. The recipient rang me several times during the pregnancy to let me know how everything was going – she was so thankful.

I wish more women would consider donating eggs. Not many women know much about it, but it’s such a rewarding and worthwhile thing to do. I’m 33 now, so I’ve got two years left to donate. I would definitely consider doing it again. It’s a good feeling to know there is someone out there I helped bring into this world.

Donating eggs

• More and more Australian women are unable to have children using their own eggs, which is often related to leaving child-bearing until later in life.
• There is a chronic shortage of donor eggs available to infertile Australian women.
• Payment for eggs is forbidden by legislation and donors may not remain anonymous.
• Because of the injections and surgery involved as well as the prohibition of payment and anonymity, very few women come forward altruistically, like Katie Broom, to donate their eggs.
• Some Australian women now circumvent the long waiting lists for donor eggs at local clinics by flying overseas to buy eggs and have them fertilised and implanted there, or to participate in egg-sharing programs in countries that allow this, such as the UK and Greece.
• In an egg-sharing program, a woman who is undergoing IVF treatment (usually due to male infertility problems) agrees to donate any unneeded eggs to an infertile woman in return for payment or a discount on her IVF treatment.
• To donate eggs, a woman must be 35 or under, healthy and preferably have had children of her own.

Look deeper

For more information on becoming an egg donor, visit these useful websites.

• www.donor-eggs.info
• www.ivf.com.au
• www.sydneyivf.com.au

Words: Michelle Camissar. Photography: Andrew Lehmann. Hair & make-up: Jay Jay Rauwenhoff.