Latest news with #eggdonation
SBS Australia
9 hours ago
- Health
- SBS Australia
Alana felt good about donating her eggs until she realised her sexuality was an issue
A Sydney woman who wanted to donate her eggs altruistically to those struggling to conceive at a major IVF clinic, says she was shocked to find couples could exclude donors based on their sexuality. Alana (not her real name) agreed to donate her eggs through a program at one of Australia's largest fertility clinics, IVF Australia, which connects hopeful couples with donated eggs and sperm. As part of this process, Alana, who is bisexual and child-free by choice, was given access to the online profiles of couples seeking donated eggs. The 35-year-old says she felt uneasy reading the details of people's lives, including what they did for work, their close family relationships and notes about their fertility challenges. She was also deeply distressed to read some couples only wanted eggs from heterosexual donors. Alana says she was shocked there was even a question asking if there was a preference for the sexuality of the donor. I was even more shocked to see how many people — despite their long heartfelt stories about their fertility journeys — saying that they would only prefer heterosexual donors. SBS News has been provided with copies of questionnaires completed by potential recipients as part of their profiles. One of the questions asked by IVF Australia in the document is whether the recipients 'have a preference of the donor's sexuality'. Some responses indicate a preference for a 'heterosexual' donor. Alana was also asked to specify her sexuality in a questionnaire she completed. A questionnaire filled out by parents going through treatment at IVF Australia, who are seeking a donor egg, states a preference for a "heterosexual" donor. Source: Supplied Alana says she wasn't warned through counselling sessions with IVF Australia that her sexuality could play a part in the selection process for couples. I found that quite confronting as a queer person to see how many people were like 'we don't want your gay eggs'. 'Her eggs are as good as any other woman's' Stephen Page, a fertility law expert and a board member of the Fertility Society of Australia and New Zealand, says he is shocked to hear about Alana's experience and believes it's not lawful under anti-discrimination legislation. Page says he does not understand why sexuality was included as a specification for potential recipients. "Let's put it clearly: surely her eggs are as good as any other woman's," he says. However, a spokesperson for Anti-Discrimination NSW tells SBS News that asking about a recipient's preference for donor sexuality is unlikely to fall within the discrimination provisions of the act as "the clinic is providing a service to the recipient, and not to the donor". In a statement provided to SBS News, Virtus Health, which owns IVF Australia, as well as a number of other IVF and fertility clinics around Australia, says it is "committed to providing inclusive, respectful, and supportive fertility care for all individuals, regardless of their sexual identity, gender, or background". "We do not engage in prohibited discrimination on the basis of sexual identity in any aspect of our donor programs," the statement read. Virtus Health also says that while some recipient profiles may include personal preferences, "these preferences are self-nominated and not determined or endorsed by Virtus". 'Surprise' over sexual orientation question Research, including a study led by a University of Queensland researcher and published in the peer-reviewed journal Science in 2019, suggests there is no meaningful way to accurately predict sexual orientation as it can be influenced by a complex mix of factors. This differs from traits such as eye colour, which are based on specific genes being passed down. Associate professor Alex Polyakov, medical director at Genea Fertility, which owns 19 IVF clinics around Australia, says he is "surprised" sexual orientation is included as a question for donors and recipients. While matches of donors and recipients that happen outside of clinics are unregulated and may be based on social considerations such as religious beliefs or whether the donor has a tertiary education, Polyakov says donor banks do not tend to include this kind of information. The National Health and Medical Research Council (NHMRC) guidelines on assisted reproductive technology, which all IVF clinics must comply with, says clinics must allow recipients of donated gametes (egg or sperm) access to donor's "medical history, family history and any existing genetic test results that are relevant to the future health of the person who would be born", as well as physical characteristics. The sexual orientation of donors is not mentioned. Monash IVF, which operates 20 fertility clinics nationwide, told SBS News it actively recruits "donors from all walks of life" and abides by the NHMRC guidelines and "relevant state legislation relating to gamete donations". Discrimination against members of the LGBTIQ+ community in Australia's IVF industry has been widely reported before in the media, with same-sex couples reporting they have been denied access to services. Ashley Scott, executive officer at advocacy organisation Rainbow Families, told SBS News the IVF industry "is generally speaking quite heteronormative and geared towards straight couples". LGBTQ+ people and single people accessing IVF often do face discrimination. Until recently, same-sex couples faced major hurdles accessing Medicare rebates for IVF treatments due to requirements around medical infertility. Treated like an 'egg factory' Alana says she was first drawn to the idea of donating her eggs after seeing close family and friends struggling with their fertility. There is a growing demand for donated eggs in Australia; however, few are altruistically donated. Of the relatively small number of pregnancies achieved using donated eggs in Australia, most consist of women donating eggs to same-sex partners, family and friends. Alana says she decided to donate her eggs after reflecting on the profound impact it could have on the lives of people struggling to start families. "I became aware of how few egg donors there are and started thinking more about the fact that I really believe that people who really want to be parents should have that opportunity," she says. Alana (not her real name) says she wanted to help couples struggling with fertility. Source: SBS, Getty While some potential recipients' profiles excluded her on the basis of her sexuality, Alana notes others wrote heartfelt letters thanking donors in advance and outlining how their children would be loved and cared for. Despite this, she says she felt some personnel at the clinic lacked empathy for her and treated her as though she were an "egg factory". I think egg donation is so rare perhaps that some of the things they have there are just geared towards their usual clients who are going through fertility treatment. One doctor pressed Alana — who is in a long-term relationship — on why she didn't want children of her own and said he assumed she must be single. Alana says she was also told to "not worry about it" when she asked about the statistical likelihood of her eggs resulting in a pregnancy. While Alana stresses many of the clinicians she interacted with were supportive and professional — some of whom even thanked her for what she was doing — she also feels strongly that the system was not well-designed for her or other altruistic donors. 'Weird' request for partner's consent Alana was also asked by IVF Australia to get consent for the egg donation from her long-term partner. While Alana's partner supported her decision to donate her eggs, the couple felt it was uncomfortable for the clinic to ask for his consent as it encroached on her autonomy. Following one counselling session, Alana was sent a consent form by the clinic that included her partner's details. After expressing her discomfort about this to the clinic, Alana was told that if her partner "wasn't supportive" they could proceed regardless — but Alana wanted to make it clear that this wasn't the case. "It was just that we didn't want to go down that route of asking him for permission," she says. "[He] didn't want to, [he] didn't feel he had the right to give permission for my gametes to be donated either, so we both felt weird about it." Under Victorian, NSW and Queensland law, spouses are not required to give consent for their partners to donate gametes. The NMHRC guidelines for gamete donation say clinics "should encourage the potential donor to include their spouse or partner in the discussions about their gamete donation" and in counselling sessions. However, some clinics insist it is a requirement and many online resources in these states say it is legally required. Page says this confusion is an example of the ways that the legislation for IVF in Australia is a "mess". "The [Fertility Society of Australia and New Zealand] has called for a national law or uniform laws so that we don't have eight systems for 27 million people," he says. 'Not enough focus on the egg donor journey' Alana says while the physician who ended up performing her egg retrieval was extremely warm and professional, the process of altruistic donation as a whole was fraught and emotionally taxing. I would love to just recommend to anyone thinking about donating eggs [to] go ahead, but I don't think I can do that without reservation and without disclaimers because you honestly don't really know until you get in there what you're going to get. Page says IVF clinics should be doing what they can to encourage altruistic donors, considering the scarcity of eggs and the high demand for them in Australia. "Prospective parents should not have to go overseas to access eggs, as some do," he says. "I would encourage all clinics to make their processes as warm and welcoming as possible with donation, not only for prospective donors but also for prospective recipients." Alana says she has no plans to donate eggs again. "I don't think I would do it again. I have thought about it — regardless of whether this leads to a pregnancy or multiple pregnancies for the recipient, I think I am 'one and done'," Alana says. While helping a couple struggling with their fertility was always front of mind for her, Alana says at times she felt she wasn't treated "as a human being with my own complex thoughts and feelings and experiences". "I do think there's not enough focus on the egg donor journey and experiences because I guess you're just a means to an end for someone else who is their main client."
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Woman Donates Her Eggs to Gay Couple, Then Surprises Dads with News About Surrogate (Exclusive)
Lauren Arrabito and Lindsay Perrin first connected on TikTokNEED TO KNOW A few years ago, Lauren Arrabito was exploring egg donation when she discovered an agency that specifically serves gay and single dads As a gay woman, Arrabito felt a unique connection and decided to apply. She was soon matched with a pair of gay dads But two years later, she learned the dads were still searching for a surrogate. Arrabito mentioned the situation to her TikTok friend, Lindsay Perrin, who chose to step in and helpWhen Lauren Arrabito packed up her car and left Florida for Colorado three years ago, she didn't have a job lined up — just a craving for adventure and a fresh start. But as her savings dwindled and job prospects stalled, she began searching for creative ways to make ends meet. That's when she remembered friends back home who had gone through in vitro fertilization (IVF) and egg donation. Curious, she started digging into the process, and one agency quickly caught her eye. It catered specifically to gay and single dads. As a gay woman herself, Arrabito felt an unexpected sense of connection. What started as a financial lifeline soon took on deeper meaning. 'It felt full circle,' she says. 'This is a process I'll likely go through myself one day to start a family. It felt like a way to give back to a community I'm part of.' Motivated, she applied. After a rigorous screening process, she was added to what she describes as a 'digital scrapbook' — a donor profile book that hopeful parents browse in search of a match. Before long, her coordinator reached out: a pair of gay dads, who chose to remain anonymous, were interested in her eggs. Arrabito, now 28, hopped on a Zoom call with them and instantly felt a spark. 'They were like, 'You're gay, we're gay, this is great,' ' she laughs. 'That wasn't why they chose me, but it definitely created a bond. It just felt right.' As the conversation deepened, so did their connection. 'They talked a lot about chosen family, about building a foundation on intention and love,' she says. 'That meant everything to me.' Once they were officially matched, things moved quickly. Arrabito underwent additional testing: genetic screening, legal paperwork and a psychological evaluation. Together, she and the dads made a key decision: they wanted an open donation. 'We wanted it to be intentional,' she explains. 'Their child is going to grow up with two dads and no maternal figure. We thought, let's keep this open. If she ever needs genetic history or has questions, I'll be there to support that.' As meaningful as it was, the process wasn't easy. The hormone injections were intense, and at times, Arrabito questioned whether she could follow through. What kept her grounded was her support system. She'd been documenting her egg donation journey on TikTok from the beginning, finding solidarity and encouragement within the queer community. 'It was worth it,' she says. 'The injections last about two weeks, and I had a coordinator I actually followed to a different agency because she was such an incredible advocate and friend. Without her, I don't think I could've done it.' When it came time for the retrieval, Arrabito flew to the dads' city. The night before, she met them in person — joined by her coordinator — for dinner. 'It felt like a second interview,' she jokes. 'But it was great. We bonded over Beyoncé, Adele, Pride events. It felt like I'd known them forever.' After the donation, Arrabito and the dads kept in touch with occasional updates. But nearly two years later, they were still on a surrogate waitlist, stuck, with no progress. Around that time, Lindsay Perrin, 37, a fellow member of the online lesbian community, had been following Arrabito's egg donation journey. The two had become internet friends, eventually meeting in person at a Fletcher concert in Orlando. A year later, they reconnected at a Girl in Red show in Denver. Over brunch the next day, Perrin asked casually, 'Do the dads have any kids yet?' When Arrabito said no, Perrin didn't hesitate. 'Oh, I'll do it.' It sounded impulsive, but something about it felt right. A queer mom of two with a flexible schedule and a deep commitment to community, Perrin felt compelled to help. 'We'd been drinking,' she laughs. 'And I'm someone who does things for the plot. I was like, 'This is a great story. I'll do it.' ' Arrabito texted her coordinator: 'So…I may have found a surrogate.' Within a week, Perrin was FaceTiming with the dads. 'It felt like a date,' Perrin says. 'I was nervous, like, 'What do they think of me?' But they said, 'We love you!' and that was that.' With everyone on board, the process began. Like Arrabito, Perrin underwent psychological evaluations, bloodwork and legal reviews. What started as an offhand comment at brunch quickly became a life-changing commitment. 'I remember telling Lauren, 'Maybe I could be pregnant by July,' ' she laughs. 'Turns out, it's about a six-month process just to get to the embryo transfer.' Finally, on November 5, 2022, the transfer took place. From the original donation, about 40 eggs had been retrieved. The clinic fertilized them with sperm from both dads, creating embryos that were frozen until ready for use. The couple chose to implant one, hoping for a girl. For everyone involved, it was more than just a milestone — it was the culmination of trust, intention and queer connection. 'It's really cool,' Arrabito says. 'People often think egg donation or surrogacy is transactional, and in some ways it is. But because of the connection between all of us, it became so much more than that.' Perrin agrees. 'Helping someone in the queer community just meant everything,' she says. 'I don't think I would've done this for a straight couple, maybe that sounds harsh, but it just wouldn't have felt the same. Doing this for other queer people, it felt personal.' That deep sense of shared purpose showed up in every decision. Their fertility doctor was a gay man. Perrin's OB-GYN — who would later deliver the baby — was one of the first lesbian friends she made after her divorce. 'Everything about it had layers,' she says. But while the experience was rich with meaning, the pregnancy came with real physical and emotional costs. Although Perrin had experienced sickness with her previous pregnancies, this one hit differently. She was throwing up two to five days a week, even toward the end. Add to that relentless heartburn, fatigue and the sheer physical weight of late pregnancy, and this time felt harder, heavier. 'I don't know if it's because I'm six years older now, or because it wasn't my DNA and my body was reacting differently,' she says. 'But it was rough. I started to wonder, could I even do this again? I knew the dads dreamed of giving their daughter a sibling.' Never miss a story — sign up for to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer, from celebrity news to compelling human interest stories. Still, everything changed the day the baby arrived. The dads had flown to Indiana on July 12, and within 12 hours, Perrin's water broke. Watching the dads during the birth was incredible for Perrin. She says they were completely engaged — emotional, theatrical and utterly invested in every moment. 'One of them was right there, ready to catch the baby. He said, 'The woman's body is incredible!' ' she laughs. 'It felt like a scene straight out of Barbie. They were both crying. One held my leg while I pushed, and I only had to push three times — she was out in four minutes.' Even the music added to the magic. Their carefully curated playlist featured queer icons like Fletcher and Chappell Roan. ' 'Good Luck, Babe' played during the embryo transfer,' Perrin says. 'So we knew we had to include it during the birth.' After the baby was born, Perrin grabbed her phone and started filming even before the cord was cut. She says the dads were crying, overwhelmed with emotion. Watching them become a family after such a long, multi-year journey was deeply moving for her. 'All the hardship melted away when it was time to give birth,' Perrin recalls. 'The delivery was the most magical day of my life, more than my own kids' births. Even more than Taylor Swift.' Since welcoming the baby girl on July 13, the bond between Perrin, Arrabito and the dads has only grown stronger. They have a group chat called Big Gay Fam and keep in touch there. While speaking to PEOPLE, both Perrin and Arrabito flashed the matching necklaces the dads had given each of them: Arrabito received hers after the egg retrieval, and Perrin's was a push present. 'They gave me this necklace when we met them,' Arrabito explains. 'Mine has a daffodil on it, which symbolizes creativity and rebirth, or life. I'm an artist on the side, so they knew that about me. It's really sentimental.' Perrin adds, 'Mine was like a push present. It has a ruby and a white lotus, the birthstone and birth flower for July.' After the birth, the dads stayed nearby for a week. One of Perrin's neighbors even rented them her house just a few doors down. Perrin brought her kids over to meet the baby, and together, they've been planning future visits — a first birthday party, Pride next year and maybe even Queer Family Week in Provincetown. For Perrin, the profoundness of what they created together, and the love surrounding it, feels especially meaningful in today's political climate. 'It's like we're the lesbian aunties,' Perrin laughs. 'My kids have a cousin now. The baby dads are family to me. I have such a small family,' she reflects. 'It's just nice to have this extended one now.' 'I gave them the gift of life, and so did Lauren,' she adds. 'And in a time when the queer community faces so much daily attack, seeing these two dads become parents — seeing how much they love each other and how naturally they've stepped into fatherhood — it just means everything.' When asked about her emotional experience postpartum, Perrin says the question she gets most from people is how she's feeling emotionally and what the attachment has been like. She says it feels similar to what she imagines it's like being a grandparent or a nanny, you love your time with the baby, but it's nice when they go home to their parents. 'It's been really good to focus on my own recovery, get rest at night and not have to change diapers,' she says, adding how she's also shipping breast milk to the dads. 'It's also easier knowing I'll remain in her life forever as her fun, lesbian auntie, and I'm so excited to watch that.' In the weeks after the baby's arrival, both Arrabito and Perrin found themselves sharing more and more of their experience online, hoping to connect with others and offer encouragement. One video she shared of the story amassed over 1.7 million views on TikTok. "Everyone I've told this story to has their jaws dropped," Arrabito says. "They're amazed at how this came about and how unique the experience is. I wasn't expecting it to blow up or anything. I was just like, I'm going to post this, and prepare for the hate because trolls are everywhere.' 'But I don't think I got a single negative comment," Arrabito adds. "People were actually infatuated with it. They were saying, 'This should be a Netflix show.' And I'm like, sign us up! Let's do it! Lauren and I were ready. It's such a cool thing to me. I honestly don't know why I hesitated to share it in the first place. If I could go back, I'd share the entire process from start to finish. It's so informative, you learn so much, and it's really heartwarming.' 'I even sent it to the dads, and they were like, 'Oh my God, that's amazing!' ' she adds. Read the original article on People Solve the daily Crossword
Daily Mail
5 days ago
- Health
- Daily Mail
Women can now claim almost £1,000 for 'gifting' their eggs and demand has never been greater. But for many the procedure is painful, has been linked to serious health conditions and leaves a lifetime of troubling questions
Leena Khan was a 21-year-old university student when she saw the Facebook advert seeking egg donors: giving would be a selfless act, the fertility clinic said. 'I've always gone out of my way to help people,' says Leena – and with £750 expenses offered, the money would help fund her studies. As far as ideas go, she says, 'it didn't seem crazy'. Within months of donating, however, Leena started suffering painful, heavy periods.
The Sun
06-07-2025
- Health
- The Sun
Warning to young women after surge in egg donations to fertility clinics despite risk of severe side effects
WOMEN as young as 18 are risking their health by donating their eggs in return for cash, campaigners warn. Surrogacy Concern said the number of 18 to 25-year-olds signing up to donate to private fertility clinics shot up from 190 in 2012 to 509 in 2022. It is illegal in the UK to buy a woman's eggs but clinics can pay up to £985 for expenses. The campaign group said some openly advertise the sum to young women and pay the full amount without asking for receipts. It said donation is generally safe but can be uncomfortable, with possible severe side-effects such as ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome, bowel perforations, abscesses and even sepsis. Surrogacy Concern founder Helen Gibson said teenagers may also underestimate the effects on their mental health. She said: 'We're really worried that women are doing this for money and are not being fully informed of the risks to their health. 'This is a lot of money at any age but especially if you're working-class or a student. 'You could do it three times and make nearly £3,000, and you're allowed to do up to ten cycles. It's insanity. 'We want the minimum age for donation to rise to 25, all payments ended to remove the risk of financial motivation and adverts asking for young women to donate their eggs to be banned.' Donor eggs must be taken from women younger than 35 as that is when they are most fertile. They take hormone drugs to stimulate the ovaries before the eggs are removed with a needle. Health Minister Karin Smyth said the £985 compensation had risen from £750 due to inflation, and clinics' ads are under the jurisdiction of the Advertising Standards Agency. She said: 'We will monitor the issues raised. "Women's health, particularly inequalities, are absolutely central to this Government's priorities.' White couple sue IVF clinic after their baby was born with 'Asian features' that left husband fearing wife had cheated on him 1
BBC News
18-06-2025
- Health
- BBC News
NHS Grampian calls for more egg donors as demand increases
An appeal has been made for women aged 35 and under in the north of Scotland to become egg donors, due to increased Grampian said the number of couples looking to conceive using donated eggs was continuing to has been estimated about 100 couples are on waiting lists for the treatment across egg donor, Emma from Aberdeen, said the procedure was a "no brainer" for her and has urged others to come forward. She has donated three times - the maximum number permitted."For me it is just a really nice thing that you can do, to help someone going through a really traumatic event in their life, where they are having to go through IVF," she said."You can actually help someone get the family that they want."I really wanted to do it and I wanted to do it as many times as I could."The only information donors can find out is whether or not a child has been born as a result of their donation. However, donor-conceived children can access their donor's name and last known contact details when they reach their 18th birthday. Genetic and psychological tests are carried out before the actual process begins, something which Emma told BBC Scotland News was "very easy". She added: "It involves injections for two weeks, then the egg retrieval, you are not in pain during any of it. "I did it three times so I think that shows it is not painful or anything like that."Emma said that knowing at least one child had been born as a result of her donation was "amazing".She said it was a "really nice feeling" to help someone have the "family of their dreams". 'Realise their dream' Donor conception - using donated sperm and/or eggs - accounts for one in 170 of all births in the UK, according to NHS health authority said there was a particular shortage in donors from different ethnic is no payment for donation in Nicola Marconi, a consultant for NHS Grampian, said: "I think one reason for the increase in demand is that there is more awareness nowadays about the possibility of what we can do in the hospital. "So more people are coming and our goal is to keep improving our service and help more people realise their dream."Anyone wanting more information should contact the Aberdeen Fertility Centre .
