“Eggsploitation” reveals the predatory practices of the fertility industry,
which lures young women in need of money to undergo medical procedures that
carry the risk of severe long-term health problems.
In 2000, a California nurse named Jennifer Lahl founded a nonprofit in the
East Bay called The Center for Bioethics
and Culture Network. CBCN is dedicated to educating the public about the
troubling bioethical issues unfolding in the modern medical field.
Although she had no previous experience in filmmaking, Lahl managed to raise
some money and set out to create a documentary. The resulting film, Lines That Divide,
explored the stem-cell research debate, highlighting its terrifying
connection to human cloning, and revealing how it required vast quantities of
human eggs in order for the research to progress. As she began to write and
speak publicly about egg donation and its risks, Lahl started to receive emails
from women who had been harmed by selling their eggs.
Concerned for her three daughters, and for all young women, she began work on
her second documentary Eggsploitation, which was
originally released in 2010. Eggsploitation captured
the attention of women’s advocacy groups around the country, including the
National
Organization for Women. It was the first film to shine light on the
predatory nature of the fertility industry and its exploitation of college-aged
women. It gave a voice to women who were lured by money and ended up sacrificing
their health, fertility, and—in some cases—their very lives.
The original film had a low budget and was clearly the product of a nurse on
a mission, not an experienced filmmaker. But, like a Bob Dylan song, the film’s
powerful content broke through any aesthetic weaknesses, and it won Best
Documentary in the 2011 California Independent
Film Festival. So far, it has sold over 6,000 copies worldwide, with
translations in Italian, French, and Japanese. Lahl has become an effective
public advocate, making a huge impact and appearing on
national TV shows such as Dr. Oz.
In the last three years, young women have poured out their stories, affirming
Eggsploitation’s thesis that egg donation harms healthy young
women. If you visit the film’s website you can read interviews with women like Y, who became
infertile at 28 and suspects that her early menopause was caused by her egg
harvesting, or Americus Dotter, who
shares her frightening experience with postpartum psychosis.
In fact, so many more women came forward with their stories and concerns that
Lahl felt she had to compile a
second cut of Eggsploitation.
The expanded film features new stories and updated facts and footage that show
the unadvertised power dynamics and big money involved in this industry. The
production value of the new Eggsploitation has dramatically improved. The
cast is comprised of both familiar and new interviewees. The audience gets a
helpful history of IVF, including its startling failure rate (70 percent) and
price tags ($12,000+ per cycle).
The human stories are the heart of the documentary, and the egg donors in the
film are given the compassion and generosity they deserve. Yet respect for
scientific research and medical facts is equally central. It is this
combination, undoubtedly a byproduct of Lahl’s decades of experience as both a
nurse and a mom, that makes the documentary so extraordinarily compelling.
“Egg donors are not sick, yet they assume all the
risk in order to help someone else.” –Jennifer Lahl
Kylee and Calla, two egg donors interviewed in the documentary, suffered
strokes as a direct result of their egg harvesting. Alexandra lost an ovary and
eventually developed breast cancer (a condition which does not run in her
family). Sindy almost bled to death. Linda and Latoya were hospitalized with
Ovarian Hyper-Stimulation Syndrome. And Jessica was diagnosed with colon cancer
at age 29, then died at 34.
One of the primary drugs used in egg harvesting is Lupron–which has never
been approved by the FDA for fertility use. And in the thirty years the
human egg trade has existed, there has never been one peer-reviewed study
confirming that egg harvesting is safe long-term.
“Economic desperation causes healthy women to
accept risks that are against their own health interests.” –Jennifer Lahl
The elite and wealthy who hope to further science or become parents may
assume that these women undergo such invasive treatments altruistically, because
$8,000 is an inconsequential sum to them. But a few thousand dollars can mean
the world to a broke and ambitious young woman. It’s a needle-length journey
into a whole new class—through a college degree, the “right” address, or travel
experience.
The exchange of money is problematic because the commissioning parents may
feel entitled to mistreat and use the egg donor as just another
service-provider. And it is problematic to the donor, in particular, because she
risks her health in exchange for money. But money can’t buy back her health once
it’s gone. This is why we don’t sell organs. It threatens human thriving.
Leah Campbell, a former egg
donor, wrote a book called Single
Infertile Female: Adventures in Love, Life and Infertility
detailing her inability to conceive and her struggles with IVF just two
years after selling her eggs. Speaking publicly at a recent event, Campbell said
that when she told the clinic about her infertility—probably caused by her egg
donation—they delightfully offered to connect her with a similarly unsuspecting
young egg donor to aid in her now-desperate efforts to have a baby of her own.
They were happy to have her back as a customer.
The infertility industry works hard to recruit “smart” egg donors, because
good grades and name-brand colleges sell better. But when those same young women
use their intelligence to ask questions about proper dosages and try to advocate
for their own health, their concerns are dismissed or ignored entirely. They are
pressured to continue painful cycles against their intuition in order to have a
successful harvest, because medicine wasted is money wasted.
I remember when I was twenty and sold my eggs.
That $8,000 seemed like the gateway to millions more. I had never seen that
much money, and it seemed like the answer to all of my heart’s desires. I was
small and compliant as I interviewed with the agency personnel. I didn’t want to
make a fuss or be difficult in any way, because my eye was on the check. My only
act of defiance was insisting on being open for contact if the children ever
wanted to know my identity.
During the week of the egg harvest, my body cavity was as dense and
inflexible as the trunk of an oak. I couldn’t so much as lightly jog due to the
pain. I used part of the money to record my first EP—my musical debut. In the
recording studio, I made my sound engineer uncomfortable as I writhed on the
floor in pain, unable to sit in a chair for the pressure I felt in my abdomen.
But I’m one of the lucky ones. I was still able to have children later when I
met my husband.
But beyond the temporary physical pain, there is a guilt that lingers: the
realization that I sold my children. To strangers. It’s a reasonable conclusion
to come to when you start to unravel the euphemisms.
Eggsploitation
is just what the doctor ordered—or fears, rather—in the debate on
reproductive technologies and stem-cell research. Show it to every college-aged
woman you care for. And if you’re trying to make a case against third-party
reproduction to an audience you think might be antagonistic, this powerful
documentary is the perfect place to start.
