(Shelby)
Ten thousand dollars was a lot of money for someone who had nothing. But let's face it: it was too little compared to the price of a surrogate. The lady at the clinic explained to me why. She said it was also a question of the law of supply and demand, a basic principle of economics. Donating eggs generated less money because most couples or single mothers want a sperm donor or a surrogate, since some women cannot make the pregnancy due to some abnormality. And also because the egg donors were often someone in the family or close to the couple doing that for free. The demand for egg donors was lower. However, women get more money doing this because eggs are limited and the extraction process requires delicate clinical techniques and drugs. For a man to donate sperm, he just needs to see Hustler's pictures!
Ten thousand dollars was almost a year's work waiting tables part-time at that cheap diner. I wouldn't pass up $10,000, but if there was a chance I had $70,000 in my hand, which was money I couldn't generate with two years of working full-time as a waitress, why not go after that money?
I say this because yesterday I received a phone call from the clinic saying that there was a couple interested in my eggs. The identity of this couple was anyone's guess. The clinic couldn't reveal anything about these people who chose my genetics for who knows what reason. As arranged over the phone, I took an afternoon off and went to the clinic to receive instructions and sign the donation agreement.
The clinic's waiting room was one of those filled with pictures of children and babies being held by happy couples. There was a desk for the secretary, who used one of those new computers to control entries and agendas. I was a little afraid of those machines. I don't know if it was because of the amount of movies and books that said those things would be our undoing, like the day a computer comes to life and drops bombs on our heads because we humans are these wonderful little things. Still, I knew a few people who were talking about this thing called the internet, which would soon be everywhere, like Skynet, and would make them millionaires. It was very odd. Weirder than those new cell phones these executives carry in their briefcases. It was as if people were giving up their own privacy.
The clinic's computer had a monitor that was too small for a body that was too big, like a warped television. The device was on top of a base that was the actual computer, and there were a bunch of wires around it, connecting a keyboard and other devices. It was unbelievable to think that my data was stored in that technological monster.
I looked at the couples in the waiting room. There were at least two. Both with people who must have been in their late thirties or older. I think clinics like that cater to those people who have spent years trying to have children without success until the moment they investigate what's wrong with them. Does one of these couples want my eggs? I looked at one woman in particular who was accompanied by what I assumed was her husband. She dressed like one of those very religious women who attended the Pentecostal church, with a long skirt, low-cut blouses and a very traditional haircut. I kept thinking about someone like my genetics being raised by a couple like that. It wasn't a very pleasant idea, although that couple certainly had money, unlike my poor family.
The secretary called me into the clinic's lawyer's office so that the procedures could be explained and the papers signed.
"Good afternoon, Miss Corcoran. I'm Roger Bowie." The lawyer said.
"Nice to meet you, mr. Bowie. Any kinship with David?"
"I wish." He smilled. Mr. Bowie was an old man, probably 60 years old, and he looked kind of tired of that sort of thing. "Sit down." I nodded and sat down in the chair. I was completely speechless as he grabbed a folder and turned on the tape recorder. "Our conversation will be recorded. If any problems arise, you have the right to request this tape. Is it clear?"
"Yes, it is."
"Usually women donors of genetic material receive payment after the extraction of it. Do you have a problem with this recommendation?"
"No sir. But can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"What if I need a down payment?"
"In your case, it won't be possible. The contract is very clear in clause 16: payment for the donation of eggs will be made after the extraction of the genetic material." The lawyer took the contract and asterisked the clause in question. "Any more questions about that?"
"No sir."
"Let's continue then. You will undergo an examination with the doctors at the clinic, who will determine the exact time you will need to use the medication. Reportedly, this process should last between 10 and 14 days until collection. During this period, you are contractually prohibited from drinking alcohol, smoking, using drugs of any kind and from having sexual intercourse. Egg extraction is a safe procedure, performed in the same clinic under anesthesia and doesn't cause sterility." The lawyer explained it to me and pointed out the clauses that explained this. "Checking blood, urine or gynecological tests may be required by the clinic at any time. Are you aware of that part? Do you have any questions?"
"From what period do I have to be abstinent?"
"From the release of the responsible gynecologist."
"Okay, I'm aware, we can continue."
"This contract can be terminated by both parties until the date of the gynecologist's release. After signing the procedure initiation document, neither you nor the clinic will be able to withdraw under penalty of a termination fine of 200% of the contract value."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that if you give up donating the eggs after the gynecologist has validated the start of the procedure, you will have to pay the clinic the amount of 20 thousand dollars in compensation. On the other hand, if the clinic wants, for some reason not foreseen in the contract, to break the agreement during the same period of time, you will receive 20 thousand dollars in damages. However, the clinic can break the contract if it is detected on examination that you have committed a violation. In that case, you are left with nothing and the process stops."
"What do you mean?"
"The clinic only has the right to terminate the contract if a test shows that you consumed alcohol, drugs, or that clinical tests prove that you had sexual intercourse."
"The clinic may summon me to check if I… have semen in my vagina?"
"During the contractual period, yes. It's contractually allowed to collect vaginal material from you until the genetic material is collected."
"Is this common to happen?"
"This check is not my decision, Miss Corcoran. Nor does it mean that it will actually be done. But it's a condition provided for in the contract. It means that if the clinic wants to do blood, urine and gynecological tests on you during the 14 days of the process, it will have that right. It doesn't mean that it will actually happen."
"Then why is that?"
"It is a mechanism to ensure that donors comply with clinical recommendations during the process. Is that part clear now, Miss Corcoran?"
"Yes sir."
"The clinic is ready to carry out gynecological follow-up up to one month after the collection. Finally, you will not be able to know the identity of the generated children. After children turn 18, they will be able to access your data and learn your identity. But that's only if you authorize it." The lawyer showed me a second, more succinct, one-page contract. There was a question whether or not I would allow children to know my identity after turning 18. I could tick yes or no and I would have to sign.
"Children? In plural?" I was scared.
"It's not uncommon to have twins. Sometimes the requesting couple uses the same donor to generate children at different times."
"Oh… How?"
"I'm not really into the tech thing, but they can generate embryos and leave them frozen for a while."
"This is weird."
"It's the advancement of science. Those things didn't exist when I had kids. I never cease to be impressed." The lawyer smiled sympathetically.
"But if I sign yes and tomorrow I become a millionaire and have other children and stuff. How would these questions look?
"Like inheritance?"
"Yes?"
"There is no law that provides for this, because it's a relatively new problem, but there is case law. In known cases, children generated with donated biological material didn't gain the right to inheritance from the biological donor."
"Are there many cases?"
"Yes, some. The first case happened in the 1980s. It was a man who donated sperm and he accumulated many assets during his lifetime. This child conceived with his sperm tried to claim rights to the estate, as this man didn't register a will. This man's legitimate children defended themselves against this biological brother and won the case. Since then, children generated by donation of genetic material do not receive this type of gain. Then no. According to jurisprudence, this is not legal. Unless the state makes a law that says otherwise."
"I understood."
"I know you are here for an obvious reason, but is it my duty to ask for the record whether you are here of your own free will and whether you are aware of the main contractual points?"
"Yes sir. I am here of my own free will and I am aware of the main contractual points." The lawyer smiled and nodded. But before he had a chance to hand me the pen to sign the document, his cell phone rang. He made a sign of apology and waiting to pick up. It seemed urgent from the expression on his face.
"Can you wait five minutes?"
"All good." What else could I do?
The lawyer left the room and I peeked at the folder with my name and picture on it. The first pages seemed to be my registration form and the preliminary clinical evaluation. But there was more there. I was curious and pulled out the folder. In addition to the contract, and my general and medical data, there was also a document about the people who should receive my eggs.
"Juan Ernesto Lopez and Hiram Joel Berry?"
I read the names. Fuck, was it a gay couple who were interested in my eggs? Wasn't it the poor menopausal woman who'd let her chance slip by and not the religious girl at the waiting hall? For some reason, this excited me at the same time that it piqued my curiosity. If it was a gay couple, obviously they would need a surrogate. Did they already have a woman in mind? It even had a contact number and address. I took a post it from the lawyer and quickly wrote everything down. The clinic would never allow me to carry out the pregnancy as well, but who knows if these guys would agree to give me this job? I would bear a child biologically my own with them, and I swear I would give up the child entirely. For another $70,000, I'd make it easy. I wrote it down, hid the sticky note in my pocket, and put the folder back where the lawyer had left it.
"I'm sorry for the phone call, Miss Corcoran." He appeared a minute later. "Where did we stop?"
"At the signing of the contract."
"That! Correct! Well…" He took the contract and handed me the pen. "Please sign both copies. One stays at the clinic and the other stays with you." I did as he asked. "Perfect. Now you need to decide whether or not to allow children to know your identity after they turn 18."
That was the big question and I had very little time to think about it. On impulse, I pointed out that yes, they could know my identity after turning 18, if they were interested.
"Great. Well, now with the contract signed, you will have at least 72 hours to break it without legal consequences if you regrets it."
"72 hours?"
"Yes. It is usually when the clinic schedules a visit to the gynecologist that the process will begin. Those 72 hours are standard."
"Well thought."
"Very good. Here's your copy. You can read calmly and think better in those three days. But remember that once the gynecologist signs the opening of the egg collection process, there will be no going back if you are not willing to pay the termination fee."
"Thanks."
I left the clinic with the copy of the two signed contracts. The main one, with many pages and clauses, and the single page on which I authorized the children to get to know me after they turned 18. But I didn't think about it as I was on my way to work. I thought about the names I wrote down, the phone number and the address. Hiram Berry and Juan Lopez. I had no idea what they would look like, but the second one was obviously a Latino. What if they agreed to hire me as a surrogate? Since I already had a signed egg donation contract, why not take a chance?
...
(Juan)
The day on duty at the emergency room always yielded some surprise. Among the dozens of cases where all I did was put a few stitches, bandage, or set a few bones in place, there was one case or another that was of some degree of complexity or that was unusual. Like the guy who swallowed the jewelry he bought his ex-girlfriend. There was another one in which a five-year-old child stabbed his seven-year-old cousin in the belly using a barbecue skewer. The kids were playing swordsmen after seeing a cartoon of D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers, in which the characters were dogs. There was another case I saw of a man who had a knife stuck in his back because of a bizarre accident caused by a dog.
That night on duty, the first patient I saw was a 30-year-old man who was having trouble breathing from complications caused by AIDS. That moved me because the guy was the same age as my husband and a similar body type. Second, because, despite all the advances made in relation to the behavior of the virus, prejudice was still very strong. I saw a colleague who answered first hesitate to even touch him. So I had to act. I put on the gloves, as I do for any patient who has an injury, I called Nurse Greta Lewis, who was the most badass of the entire nursing staff, and we took care of the patient. We put him on oxygen and I put him on medication to make him more comfortable. I asked if there was anyone I could call, he said no as his boyfriend dumped him after he found out he had relapsed into heroin addiction. His parents lived in Utah and didn't want anything to do with him. It was very sad. As a doctor, I couldn't make predictions about the future, but experience showed us that his case was very difficult.
Later that night I was called to see a young woman who was complaining of heart palpitations and headaches. When I approached the box where the patient was waiting, I got scared. I don't think I could disguise my reaction, by the expression that young woman made. It took me five seconds to pull myself together and go back to being the professional I was.
"Good evening, I am Doctor Lopez." I looked at the file to pretend I didn't know her name. "Miss Shelby Corcoran. How can I help you?"
"I have palpitations, and I have an incredible headache."
I was a little embarrassed to approach, but if she was there as a patient, I had to be a professional. I took my stethoscope, which was around my neck, and instructed her.
"Take a deep breath, please." I swear I tried to believe there was something wrong, but there was no apparent abnormality with Shelby Corcoran. I checked the heartbeat, which was a little fast, but that could be due to anxiety or something similar. There weren't even any signs of anything irregular. I checked for breathing and there was nothing wrong with the lungs. I checked her eyes with my small flashlight.
"Does the light bother you?"
"Yes." She answered.
"Are you experiencing any other symptoms besides the headache? Nausea, for example?"
"My stomach is a little sensitive."
"Okay." I squeezed her face and close to her temples wanting to see how she reacted. She made little faces. "Do you feel sensitivity in this region?"
"Yes." She answered me.
"Are you under stress?"
"Yes, a little bit. I'm anxious these days."
"Well, Miss Corcoran, you don't seem to have anything wrong. That headache and those palpitations seem to be symptoms resulting from stress."
"It's possible, Dr. Lopez. I am facing a challenge these days that makes me apprehensive."
"Yes?"
"Yesterday I signed a contract to donate my eggs to a gay couple."
I took a step back. It didn't need further explanation. I understood right away that she wasn't there innocently. That young woman was there with very clear intentions. Because of my reaction, if she's really that smart, she understood that I had already connected the dots. Even so, I regained my composure for the second time, and if she was an actress, I would try to be a bit of an actor too.
"A gay couple? Seriously?"
"Yes. I'm going to help a two-man couple become parents."
"How do you feel about it?"
"I still don't know."
"Well, Miss Corcoran, if you are in doubt, it might be possible to back off and not donate your eggs. Especially if it might hurt your beliefs in any way."
"I don't want to back down. I want to talk." She looked so directly and I understand that there was no point in continuing the theater. It was crystal clear that she was there with an agenda.
"Miss Corcoran, with all due respect, this socialization of ours violates all protocols. Miss should not know our identity."
"It wasn't the clinic's fault… I can assure you. Afterwards, weren't you the one who broke protocol first when you went to the cafeteria that day? I remember you very well. Sparkling water, lemon and Meg Ryan."
"What do you want?"
"I wanna Talk... make a counter-proposal outside the clinic's policies. I want to propose something that I think will be good for everybody."
"Look, I'm on duty until eight in the morning. I don't usually extend my hours, except in case of an emergency. So, if you don't have any other engagements, we can meet at eight o'clock at a nearby cafe called Fluffy."
"Fluffy?"
"The name is horrible, but believe me, the food is really good. It's on Chester Ave."
"Okay, I will be there."
"Besides that..."
"I'm not feeling anything. It was just an excuse to talk to Juan Ernesto Lopez."
"I'm going to give you a medical discharge. And don't worry. As no procedure was requested, you won't have to pay anything."
"Thanks."
I left Miss Corcoran in the stall and asked the administrative assistant to close the consultation free of charge. I went to see the third patient of the night, and I hoped to God this was a real problem, as it was hard to get my focus back.
...
(Shelby)
I went home trying to organize my thoughts. While my roommates were already retreating to their rooms to rest after a full day's work, I sat in our second-hand armchair, jotting down arguments and points that should be discussed with Juan Lopez in the next morning. One thing I didn't lie to when I was at the hospital trying to meet Juan Lopez: my anxiety palpitations were very real. I set the alarm clock for six in the morning. And when I got up the next day, I wore a discreet outfit, because I thought it was appropriate for the occasion. I was there to negotiate, and I couldn't look like a gunslinger, nor could I go out of tune in a sexy outfit. If the guy really was gay, he wouldn't be interested.
I took the bus and headed towards that coffee shop that was close to the hospital. It was a rather modern environment and it was clear that the consumers there was very different from the public that appeared in the diner where I worked. I was used to dealing with students and poor people in general. There it was something more high-level at that restaurant, since it served a noble area of the city, where there was a private university whose tuition was more than twice the monthly fee of the modest Cleveland State University, not to mention that it was in a far above better academic ranking position. Obviously anyone looking at me could conclude that I was a student. I ordered water and an espresso, and none of the expensive (to me) stuff that was available on the menu.
As I waited, I kept thinking about the whole situation. I had signed a contract to sell my eggs to a gay couple. I had no idea what Hiram Berry was like, but Juan Lopez was everything you wouldn't expect from a stereotypical gay man. The guy was handsome, tall, strong, had a very masculine voice, and appeared to be a young man too. I'd give him like 30 years old at the most. Juan Lopez was a physician who worked in the largest and most equipped hospital in the city and, possibly, in Ohio. Judging by the elegant way he showed up at the diner that day, and the way he spoke to me the night before, I'd say he was a pretty level-headed guy. I just hoped I had good arguments to talk to a guy like him.
I waited half an hour, and he didn't show up. I waited another half hour and I was already worried, thinking that Juan had given up talking to me and that, instead, he had reported me to the clinic to cancel the signed contract. I was already getting my bag of coins to pay the bill and leave the tip when he arrived. Juan was showered, well dressed and an expression of someone who was exhausted, in need of a good night's sleep. I allowed myself to notice him better than when he went to the diner to spy on me. He was a very handsome Latin man, attractive to my eyes, he had very black hair, wavy and thick. He seemed like the type of guy who wouldn't go bald.
"Sorry I'm late. I was on a surgery."
"What kind of surgery?" I was curious.
"An emergency appendicitis. A woman came in with acute pain and we decided to operate."
"Is this serious?"
"Yes and no. Yes, because it was very inflamed, which is very bad. But it's not a complex surgery. It's a quick procedure compared to other types."
"Oh..."
"Sorry… doctor talking is kind of boring."
"Do you like what you do?"
"I love what I do. And you? Shelby Corcoran… do you like being an actress?"
"I believe that information is in my clinic's file, correct?"
"Yes, and also your age, where you were born, where you live, level of education, ancestry, summary of psychological evaluation, main genetic traits… also, I went with my husband to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I remember you as Janet."
"It loses some of the mystery and my bargain. Well... what did you think of the play?"
"I'm not a theater guy, but I remember you singing well."
"Thanks." I looked at Juan. He was serious at the same time as he tried to be pleasant.
My fear was that he was one of those guys who threatened to sue me and send me to jail. However, he looked curious and interested. Looking this close, Juan had slightly slanted Native American eyes, dark brown in color. They were beautiful eyes and I was imagining that I could have beautiful children with this man.
"Well, Miss Corcoran..."
"Call me Shelby, please."
"Okay, Shelby… I'm a direct and frank person, so I like people to be frank with me too. I need to know why you came to me when the clinic's policy on conduct is very clear? How did you get to me?"
"Yes, the clinic's policy is clear, and lawyers shouldn't leave people alone in a room with a file folder free to be searched… anyway… your name and your partner's name were there, along with an address. And a contact number. I called the number and the lady who answered told me you were in the hospital."
"Oh…that must be Rita. My husband works full time and Rita is the person who cleans my apartment twice a week. Anyway, this is a recommendation that I will need to pass on to her: not to pass on my information to strangers."
"She meant no harm. Anyway, she said you were in the hospital, she also said which hospital it was, and that's why I went to the emergency room."
"Why did you go looking for me?"
"It's in the clinic documents that you and your... husband selected me to receive my eggs. I will get $10,000 for this."
"Is that not enough for you?"
"It's not. I need more."
Our conversation was interrupted by the waiter. Juan received a cup of coffee and a sandwich without even having asked for anything. This was typical of people who were habitués.
"Aren't you hungry? It's on me."
I was starving and that menu had appetizing options
"I just want water."
"Are you sure? The croissant here is super yummy. Wants to know?" He nodded to the waiter. "Dan, bring my friend a croissant and fresh orange juice." He turned to face me. "I hate eating alone when I'm with someone else… but… anyway… back to the question… why do you want more money?"
"As you already know, I am an actress. And Ohio is not the best place to develop a career. That's why I plan to go to New York. Doing this is not simply getting on a bus and going. I need a good reserve to pay the rent, an agent, pay for a minimum structure and have reserves to live with some dignity."
"I think I owe my husband 10 dollars..." Juan grumbled.
"What?"
"Okay, I can understand. But I'm not paying more than $10,000 for your genetic material, Shelby. Don't get me wrong, you are a young and beautiful girl...attractive. But I can perfectly choose another woman who is registered with the clinic and pay the same $10,000."
"I know... that's why I want to propose that I also carry this child. I don't understand these things, but I've been doing some research. If I get pregnant either from you or your husband, we wouldn't even need the clinic to... do... I read about a method where I take a drug to stimulate ovulation and then you just inject the sperm with a syringe, or whatever. I'm a young woman, I'm healthy, I don't have diabetes and no history of high blood pressure. I would sign any contract you wanted, giving up any rights I might have, as long as I got the ten thousand for the eggs, plus the seventy thousand for carrying the child."
Juan stared at me like I'd grown a second head, or a horn, or whatever else. He drank some of his coffee, which was at the same time my food was served. I took the tip of the croissant and tasted it. It melted in my mouth, it was really divine. I was sure the orange juice must be fresh and sweet.
"Shelby, even if you wanted to do both parts of the process, you need to know that there's more to it than popping a few pills and injecting sperm into your vagina."
"I know I'm ignorant on this subject, and the public library isn't exactly a suitable place to do this kind of research. My point, Juan, is that I want to pursue my dream. I am a performing arts student who was unable to complete the course due to lack of money. But I know that I have talent. I don't want to cause problems for you and your husband. I reaffirm that I will sign any document you ask me to do. I just need the money, and this is the best opportunity I have to earn that amount in a dignified manner."
"I understand your motivations, Shelby, and I consider them reasonable. But that's not a matter I can decide in half an hour. I need to take this discussion to my husband. We need to consult lawyers, and also the clinic."
"My appointment with the clinic's gynecologist is tomorrow morning. If I go to that consultation, he will sign a paper starting the procedure, and the contract cannot be broken. If so, I'll pay a fine of an amount that I don't even dream of receiving in my current reality. Of course, I'm going to donate my eggs to you, but I... I need the money, Juan. If you are willing to pay it, it's because you already have that amount and you would already pay that amount to someone else. I don't know if you and your husband have already chosen surrogacy, but if not... please consider me."
I took a pen out of my purse and wrote on a napkin.
"This is my phone number. I share the apartment with three other girls, and we have the rule of always taking notes. This is the phone number of the cafeteria where I work. My shift starts at three in the afternoon and I stay until nine. I will wait for your positive or negative response."
"Okay."
"Thanks." I grabbed his hand quickly. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Shelby, I have to go. Don't worry, I'll pay for everything. You can enjoy your meal."
He took a last sip from his coffee cup and loaded up the sandwich. I watched him make his way to the cashier at the counter, really getting everything right. Then he walked away without looking back. Yes, I enjoyed the paid meal, and I wondered about Juan. I lived with all kinds of people, with all kinds of sexuality. Theater has always been this plural environment in which people didn't hide themselves, unlike what they did outside our environment. Honestly, this Juan might even be in a relationship with another guy, but he wasn't fully gay. My gaydar wouldn't beep for him. Not that it mattered, because I didn't want him, I wanted his money. It was a commercial exchange: a child for $80,000, including eggs and pregnancy. Full package. I would give him a beautiful biracial child for $80,000. Honestly, the way he was handsome, I would have gotten pregnant even the traditional way.