Holy Hormones Journal: A young Korean woman shares her story about her experience with egg-farming and the use of “foreign” hormones during her endeavor. Although she turned over her eggs for a huge sum of money – she also risked her relationship. Wonder how much of her experience with synthetic hormones were affected by her ethnicity? Something else we do not take into consideration when we are considering hormone therapy. Can you think of any other way that the system profits from women’s bodies? I think they covered everything. Our entire body.
Serious Question: Would You Sell Your Eggs For $8,000?
October 30, 2015
By Jazmine Denise Rogers
When I pass the billboards that encourage women to become egg donors, the models appear so happy, bright-eyed and chipper, that I never really thought about all that goes into the actual process. Well, not until I came across an article titled “I Sold My Eggs for the Money,” recently published to Elle’s online platform.
Sarah Jean Alexander’s brutally honest account of her egg donation experience left me floored. I figured that the idea of donating your eggs for someone else to fertilize and raise as their own would take an emotional toll on any woman, but according to Alexander’s essay, the problems for her began well before the eggs were even retrieved.
After passing a series of medical exams and answering an extensive questionnaire, the 26-year-old was matched with a donee. They were both placed on birth control so that their cycles would align, which is when Alexander recalls noticing a change in her behavior.
We were both put on the same birth control to sync our cycles. While she didn’t know my name or what I looked liked, she knew I was a college graduate, average weight for my height, and half-Korean.
Around this time, I noticed a shift in my emotional balance. I started crying almost daily at work and picking fights with my boyfriend. I couldn’t tell if it was the hormonal birth control or if it was just me, in that moment. Then, after about a month on birth control and a particularly messy cry in the women’s bathroom, I quit my job, to my and my boss’s surprise. I told them my boyfriend had gotten a job in LA and that we were moving there next month. This was partly true—he and I did plan on moving to LA for new work, but not until the end of summer. The imminent payoff from donating my eggs led to a disregard for my finances.
After approximately two months on birth control, Alexander was to begin the process of injecting herself with IVF hormones, and things really took a dramatic turn.
Most of my girlfriends asked how I was feeling during the whole process, which I replied to relatively positively. I was achy and slow, but only mildly. I wasn’t allowed to drink, do drugs, exercise, or have sex. It was pretty OK, other than the feeling of being weighed down from the most central and sensitive part of myself.
Eventually, her relationship with her boyfriend of approximately two years unraveled, and he chose to move to Los Angeles without her. She partially blamed the split on her decision to harvest her eggs.
While it feels too easy to blame the “dissolution of Us” on the foreign hormones in my body, it would be reckless to ignore the fact that over the past six months I had focused a lot of my attention on my egg-farming endeavor. Though he was and remained completely supportive of my decision to donate throughout the entire process, he was going to move to LA alone, and I felt sad that the end of our relationship was marked by a Me who didn’t really feel like the outgoing and positive-minded Me that I was for most of the relationship.