Although I’ve always wanted children, I didn’t meet my husband until I was 40. I had frozen my eggs, but when I tried to use them, it didn’t work out. After three years of trying and multiple I.V.F. attempts (fortunately covered by insurance), my doctors have said that, at 44, I won’t be able to get pregnant with my own eggs. My husband and I have decided to pursue egg donation, which, unlike adoption, is covered by our insurance.
I’d like the donation process to be as open as possible, ideally knowing our donor so our child could have a relationship with her. Most clinics, however, still use anonymous donation. Private donor-egg agencies that facilitate communication are beyond our budget. I did ask a distant cousin, but she understandably declined.
My husband and I are professors, and I have a former student with whom I’m fairly close. We think she’d make a great donor, but I worry it would be inappropriate to ask her. She was my student just two years ago. I know she doesn’t have much money, so the standard remuneration we’d offer might make it hard for her to decline, especially as a request from a former authority figure. Finally, she hopes to eventually enter my field, which could create a problematic power imbalance.
On the other hand, my former student is highly responsible, and I trust her to make complex decisions. And while egg donation is considerably more invasive and riskier than sperm donation, I sometimes think that hand-wringing over a young woman’s choice to donate her eggs reflects sexist assumptions.
Is it inappropriate to discuss this with my former student and let her decide? Or does the power imbalance in our relationship create too much potential for exploitation? — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
The world is full of relationships that begin unequal but evolve over time: the medical resident who becomes her attending physician’s respected colleague; the junior lawyer who becomes a valued partner; and, inevitably, the executive who, having ascended to senior management, must place a former mentor on a “performance improvement plan.” What’s more, we wouldn’t be able to make significant agreements with anyone if we insisted on there being no imbalances of power at all between the parties. Nor is it automatically exploitative to receive something from a person who has reason to be grateful to you.
Granting all this, I still find your worries to be well founded. You indicate that money is currently tight for this woman, and that’s one obvious vulnerability. It’s also relevant that she was your student very recently. She may be feeling in your debt. And she may be at exactly the stage of her career where your help would be most useful. Her future in academia may seem tied to this decision — acceptance could appear to secure advantage, refusal to risk an important connection.
A frank and careful conversation that goes perfectly could, in theory, allow you to hash out all of these issues. Yet you may find that the air changes the moment you make the request, given her professional ambitions and your professional seniority. However much you insist that you have no expectations and that she should feel no obligation, and however warmly the conversation ends, she could fear that if she demurs, her subsequent interactions with you will be tinctured by a lingering sense of having let you down.
It matters, too, that this is a very, very big ask. Let’s not minimize the realities. Egg donation reaches into the body, the psyche, the future. Raising this possibility with your former student brings together several sensitive dynamics: the potential medical procedure, biological parenthood and a long-term personal relationship with you and your family, as well as a professional connection with someone who could potentially help her career advance. Anyone would find it difficult to fully process all these elements.
I’m not saying that the request is absolutely impossible to make ethically; I am saying that you’d do well to explore alternatives, like working with a nonprofit or hospital-affiliated egg-donation agency that provides proper screening and counseling, or seeking a donation from someone without any professional overlap. It’s commendable, in any case, that you’re giving careful consideration to everyone’s well-being in this situation. Thoughtful deliberation of this sort honors not only the weight of what you’re asking but also the dignity of everyone whose future might be forever changed by your choice.
Readers Respond
Last week’s question was from a reader struggling to balance her needs and those of her ailing husband. She wrote: “My husband of 52 years was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease 10 years ago. Currently I am a full-time caregiver. I hope to place my husband in a memory-care facility soon, so that I can move closer to two of my children and their children, all of whom live in Europe. My husband does not know anything about this yet. … Do I have the moral right to put him in care and saunter off to live my own life, or do I have the moral duty to continue being his caregiver, having once promised “in sickness and in health”?”
In his response, the Ethicist noted: “Entrusting your husband’s daily care to others could make sense, especially if you think they’d look after him better. But this decision is separate from whether you’ll keep showing up for him. … You say, however, that your husband doesn’t yet know about your plans, which suggests he might be able to understand what’s happening and experience the impact. If so, and your leaving would cause him to feel abandoned, that’s a powerful reason to stay in his life. What has weight here aren’t his “rights” but the deep loyalties that arise from a shared life.” (Reread the full question and answer here.)
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When complimented on visiting my father in memory care every day for years, my mother would always say, “Where else would I be?” That was her choice. The writer also has a choice, and I would support her decision to move to be with the rest of her family. She may need them as she ages. And her grandchildren would benefit from having their grandmother in their lives. — Susan
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People receive better care in memory-care units if there is a local family member to serve as an advocate for them. Even the best facilities provide a different level of care if a family member is nearby and involved. I deeply regret my decision to place my mother in a dementia care facility that was four hours away from my home. My frequent visits were still not enough to ensure optimal care. — Laurie
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My wife and I agreed on how important it would be for both of us to stay out of a nursing home. Caring for her totally drained me emotionally in a way that I wasn’t aware of until months after she died. Now, a year later, I am so very proud of how I persevered during an exhausting challenge and the very large difference it made for her. — Joel
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There’s another choice; the writer could move her husband to a facility in Europe near where she wants to move. When my father had dementia, I placed him in a home close to me so I could see him often and know he was getting the care he needed. — Kelly
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I fought with myself over exactly this quandary regarding my recently deceased husband’s 10-year journey. Putting him in a facility that cared for him for the last three years of his life was a great relief. Still, as his wife of nearly 50 years, I was there every day. When he left this life only a few weeks ago, I had no regrets. And it is only now, with no regrets, that I am soon off to Paris. — Katy
The post I Need an Egg Donor. Can I Ask a Former Student? appeared first on New York Times.
