Most Wanted (15 page)

“What does that mean?”

“It means a true psychological evaluation of the donor, exploring for disorders like depression or anxiety, to find out if the donor is hearing voices or the like, or manifests any issues regarding addictions or disorders like OCD and the rest. Some banks administer a phony-baloney test that somebody made up, which characterizes personality traits. You probably saw that online, with other banks. Did you?”

“Yes.” Christine remembered.

“None
of these interviews or tests constitute psychological screening to any reasonable standard of care in psychology or psychiatry. No nice lady with a liberal arts degree will be able to identify, much less stop, a sociopath.”

Christine felt a chill run down her spine. Lauren looked over, but neither woman said anything.

“The other characteristic of a psychological test is that it has reliability and reproducibility. It's called ‘test-retest reliability.' In other words, the test will reveal whether the donor has anxiety issues and the same result will occur if he is retested. Egg donors are routinely given those tests, but sperm donors are not.”

“Why is that?”

“It began because egg donation is a more extensive, physically invasive process. Egg donors have to go through cycles of IVF, and they undergo the procedure by which the eggs are retrieved.”

Christine understood. “Egg donation seems like a bigger deal.”

“Yes, and, in the old days, you could donate sperm anonymously, or before the banking industry mushroomed, you could order the donations yourself. You could use a turkey baster, for real.”

Christine had heard that from the techs at Families First.

“They didn't think about it downstream, in other words, no matter how differently the gamete—that is, the sperm or egg—is obtained, it's the same as far as the donor recipient is concerned. There is simply no reason that sperm donors should not undergo the same psychological testing that has become the ordinary standard of care for egg donation.” Gary's eyes burned with a new intensity. “Moreover, the industry's record-keeping is also unregulated. Patients, or customers, like you are not required to report births or defects to the banks. The banks are not required to report births or defects to anyone above them, like the FDA. So if there's a flaw with the sample, they may not know, and they keep selling it.” Gary shook his head. “To make matters worse, there's no regulation on how many times they can sell the same sample. There's no limit on the number of offspring produced by any single donor. That's left up to the banks. Some banks limit the number of offspring to 60. I've heard numbers as high as 170.”

Christine shuddered.

“There's no financial incentive to make banks limit the number of times they sell that sample. The incentive is to use it more, you see? The banks pay a fixed cost for the minimal testing they perform on the donor. Most banks try to recoup that cost by requiring the donor to donate for a year.”

Christine hadn't known that. She'd thought the donors could just donate once. Her head was spinning, and she knew Lauren's had to be, too.

“Because the banks rule their jungle, bad things happen to people like you, who just wanna be moms. You're vulnerable, you're weak. Some of you fight back. You sue. I can tell you about the case of the bank in Wyoming, who sold twenty-year-old sperm. The offspring was born with cystic fibrosis. Nobody tested for CF when the sperm was donated.”

Christine recoiled.

“Let me tell you a recent case that's something like yours, involving Xytex. They've been in the business for forty years, a major bank. Do you know the name?”

“Yes, Families First uses it.”

“Do you know that they were sued last year by a same-sex couple, two women, because their sperm donor become schizophrenic, dropped out of college, and was arrested for burglary?”

“Yikes.” Christine thought it sounded a little like their case. “How did the women know it was their donor?”

“The bank told them their donor's identity by mistake, in an email. The women started playing detective. They had the name, they looked him up, they found out.”

“My God.”

“By the way, did you know that anonymous sperm or egg donation is illegal in the U.K.? They don't allow it. Interesting, no?” Gary nodded. “Anyway, to stay on point, Xytex followed the current standard of care, which is asking donors for three generations of family medical history, doing physicals, blood tests, and a minimal amount of genetic testing. And no psychological testing.”

“Did the couple win?”

“Yes.” Gary paused. “It illustrates another problem in their jungle. Even the best banks, like Homestead, don't follow up on the information to verify that it
remains
accurate. They don't follow up to see if any of the donors develop an illness or emotional disorder. They don't even try. The profile for 3319 that your husband showed me, that's just a snapshot. You follow?”

“Yes,” Christine answered miserably. That was why they weren't sure their donor had gone to med school or not.

“There's no blood test or genetic marker for mental illnesses. So it's not easy, quick, and most important of all,
cheap
to screen for. Let me read you something.” Gary pivoted to his laptop and hit a few keys, then read from his monitor, “The Director of Public Affairs for the American Society for Reproductive Medicine was asked about this, and he said, ‘As technical capabilities to do genetic testing and screenings improve, the banks will do that. But it would be incredibly expensive to test for everything.'”

Christine inhaled, despairing. She understood why Marcus had wanted her to come.

“So you see, it's about money. It's business. They could be selling sneakers. It's all the same to them.” Gary frowned. “They
could
hire a qualified psychologist to evaluate the donor, but they don't do that. Families First does, for egg donors. Correct. Props to them. But they don't do it for sperm donors because they're not in the sperm banking business. You might want to ask yourself why.”

Christine blinked. “Why?”

“Davidow is doing only what he can do competently. Also, he wants to avoid the exposure. This is the next wave in med mal litigation. Infertility practice is the cutting edge, and there's going to be more of it, now that same-sex couples can get married.”

Christine saw where he was going.

“So you see why I would advise that you and Marcus sue Homestead. They're doing wrong. Their wrong hurt you. They rule their jungle. They're not going to get away with it anymore, not under my watch.” Gary paused. “It's your decision, but it's my advice that we file suit for negligence with respect to their psychological screening practices. Also for breach of contract, because you signed a contract with them, and implicit in that is a duty of reasonable care, and I don't think they exercised that.”

“But how do we get the name of our donor? How do we find out if it's Zachary Jeffcoat?”

“We find out as part of a settlement. They disclose to us the identity of 3319, and they pay us money damages. If enough people sue them, in time, they'll change their ways. But I'm not fighting for the world. I'm fighting for you. I'm protecting you.”

“I understand.”

“Now, there's one thing we have to discuss, it's personal.”

Christine couldn't imagine what was more personal than the conversation already.

“Your husband told me you would not consider terminating the pregnancy.” Gary put up his hand again, before Christine could say anything. “Please, I'm only bringing it up to talk to you about timing.”

“What about timing?” Christine asked, but she felt wary.

“This lawsuit is not going to happen overnight. I can file it next week. They have thirty days to answer. They'll ask for an extension. I won't give it to them. I'm going to pressure them from the get-go. I'm going to hold their feet to the fire.”

“So then why do you bring up time?”

“Because you're not going to have your answer about your donor's identity right away. Best-case scenario, it's going to take a month or two, especially if we don't sue Davidow. If we had Davidow as leverage, it could get done faster. I don't care what he told you, he would put his thumb on the scale, believe me. But if you're not terminating the pregnancy, you're not in a rush.”

“That's true,” Christine said, still taken aback.

“The question I have for you is, why do you want to know if Jeffcoat is your donor when you're not gonna do anything about it, that is, terminate?”

“Why does that matter?” Christine asked, confused.

“Suing somebody takes effort. It takes persistence. I need my clients to stay strong.” Gary eyed her, newly critical. “When you appear in a deposition, you need to mean what you're saying. I don't want you to go south on me, whether I'm defending you in a video deposition or if I put you on the stand. So. Answer my question, please.”

“I want to know because I have an outside hope that our donor isn't Jeffcoat.”

“Okay, I get that. Then everybody's happy.” Gary shook his head. “Let's say you got the wrong answer. How are you gonna react? Give up the lawsuit?”

“Oh.” Christine's heart sank. She didn't know what to do if she got the wrong answer, and Gary must've read her hesitation because he started talking again.

“Here's why you want to know, even if it's the wrong answer. You want to know because if Jeffcoat is the biological dad, then your child's going to need to be psychologically evaluated and tested every year, to make sure he's mentally on track and not showing signs of mental illness. If he begins to show signs, then you'll need to get him treatment. That's going to cost money.” Gary tented his fingers. “You shouldn't have to pay that. Homestead should, because their lack of psychological screening is what caused you to have a child with a mental illness. So, Christine, you need to know if Jeffcoat is 3319, whether he is or not, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Christine hadn't thought about evaluating or treating the baby, going forward. “But what's involved in a lawsuit?”

“Discovery, then trial, if we have to go the distance, which we won't.”

“Will they take my deposition?”

“Yes, first thing. I welcome it. I can't wait. You'll be a great witness.” Gary beamed, but Christine grimaced.

“How do you know that? I've never had my deposition taken.”

“I'm looking at you. You're adorable. You're pregnant. You're an elementary-school teacher. That's a home run.”

Christine couldn't manage a smile. “But it makes me nervous.”

“I'll prepare you. I'll be with you. So what, you'll be a little nervous.” Gary shrugged, again. “That's fine. It's true. It's authentic. And it's vulnerable. I want it on video, so Homestead knows that if this case goes to trial, the jury will see the big bad corporate lawyers upsetting the nice pregnant schoolteacher.”

“What about Marcus? Do they take his deposition, too?”

“Yes, of course. I'll prepare him, too. He won't be nervous. He's as cool as a cucumber, your husband.
You're
the case.
You're
the sympathy.
You're
the reason they're going to settle and tell us.”

“You really think so?” Christine felt her hopes lift, torn. It was good news and bad news, both.

“Yes, but one last thing. You will have to agree that the settlement is confidential. All of it must be confidential. The fact of it, that they told us the donor's identity, and the amount of the money. No Facebook, no nothing.” Gary turned to Lauren with a sharp eye. “Even you, best friend. The best friend can't know about it. If the best friend is told about it, I don't want to know that. You follow, ladies?”

“Yes,” Christine and Lauren answered, in unfortunate unison.

Gary returned his attention to Christine. “So, fish or cut bait. Can I count you in as a plaintiff with Marcus?”

Christine looked over at Lauren, who shot her a grim thumbs-up.

“That's a yes from the best friend.” Gary turned to Christine. “Well?”

“Yes,” Christine answered, praying she was doing the right thing.

 

Chapter Fourteen

After the meeting with Gary, Christine had mixed emotions, but kept them at bay. She lay on the examining table with a paper sheet covering her from the waist down, waiting for her OB-GYN to come in and start the ultrasound. Her obstetrician was Dr. Terry Frazier, who practiced with a women's health group unrelated to Dr. Davidow and Families First. Lauren stood beside her, and they had already done the initial workup with the nurse.

“You must be hungry,” Lauren said, smiling down at her. “After this, I'm treating you to Clam Cottage. Fried things make the best celebration.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“This, the ultrasound.” Lauren smiled, looking down at her. “This is a big deal!”

“Right.” Christine tried to relax. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. She was having a baby, something she'd wanted her whole life long. She tried to put the donor lawsuit out of her mind.

“I'm sorry Marcus couldn't be here.” Lauren puckered her lip, sympathetically.

“I know.” Christine had thought about texting him but hadn't. He hadn't texted or called her this morning, and she wondered how he was doing. She prayed they weren't having a major rift. They'd been through so much, but this was a crisis. They had to get past this, somehow. She looked up at Lauren. “I'm glad you came, though.”

“Me, too. Honey, I know you're worried, but you're doing the right thing suing Homestead. You need to know who your donor is, whether it's good news or bad.”