Meghan Daum of the Los Angeles Times has octuplets derangement. So do I and I suspect many of you too as new information on the California babies dribbles out in the media - the mother’s previous six babies, her obsession with kids, her living with her parents, their recent bankruptcy filing, etc….

To her “Who? How? Why?” I’d like to add: “Who was her doctor?” and “What was he/she thinking?!”

In some European countries with national health insurance, doctors are limited to transfering just one embryo during in vitro fertilization. There are no such limits in America, where IVF is typically not covered by any insurance.

When I did a series on IVF in Minnesota last year, fertility doctors said they supported the idea of single-embryo transfer, simply because of the health risks of multiples to the mom as well as babies. But in the absence of such rules, they knew if they didn’t agree to transfer two or in rare cases three, another doctor down the street would.

But competitive pressure can’t possibly explain the EIGHT embryos transferred in California.

Here’s Daum’s piece. Cribsheeters?

Just glancing at the Star Tribune’s front page this morning made me smile.

Take a look at these amazing twin girls who defied the odds. They ”are the first babies in Minnesota to be born from eggs that were frozen and then thawed before being fertilized in a petri dish.”  Click  here to read more.

As promised, Josephine’s take on today’s talk… 

It’s always good to put things in perspective, and Debora Spar did that for the infertility business Thursday when she gave a talk at the University of Minnesota.

She’s the Harvard economist who wrote the book published last year called “The Baby Business,” who estimates that the infertility marketplace is worth about $3 billion.

Sounds like a lot, right? Well, her latest research is on the bottled water business and that’s worth about $58 billion.

Well, it might be small in the grand commercial scheme of things, but we are talking about babies here, and being parents.

She said that some things in this country could be better for infertile couples or single people who want be parents. For starters, health plans could view infertility as a medical problem, which it often is, and include it in their health coverage. They could set some parameters. For example, they don’t have to pay for a single, 53-year-old former cocaine addict to have twins. (She swears that’s a true case. Her health plan, which is required to cover infertility by Massachussetts law, paid for that woman to conceive twins via IVF.)  But what about a 27-year-old who can’t have children because her tubes are blocked?

She also said it might be a good idea to put payment caps on the price of egg donation, which has on rare occassions has reached $50,000 for so-called ivy league eggs. And Spar said she was struck by the fact that there are Ivy League eggs, but no Ivy League sperm that fetches a higher price than, say, Ernie’s who tends bar. Sperm is universally priced the same no matter who provides it. So why is that? 

She didn’t have an answer, but maybe you have some thoughts?

The couples Josephine and I talked to for our stories on infertility are some of the best-read, best-researched people we’ve found anywhere.

They talk in the acronyms and language of the IVF set. Hormone levels and daily body temperatures are tracked with the fervor shown by Wall Street analysts following their favorite stocks. They can tell you exactly how many rounds of Clomid (a fertility drug) or IUI (Intrauterine Insemination) they did before trying IVF (in vitro fertilization) and then, whether they’re combining the IVF with PGD (pre-implantation genetic diagnosis). They refer to their doctors as “RE’s” (reproductive endrocrinologists) and when they mention Resolve, everybody knows they are talking not of their own personal motivation but of the national infertility advocacy group.

And so it’s not surprising that the clinics who compete for their business have some of the most responsive doctors around. They have to be - they’re dealing with an incredibly motivated patient population who typically pay out of pocket. And as competition intensifies, these doctors are vying to win new patients with their success rates, their money-back guarantees and their outreach to rural areas.

It’s a field of medicine unlike almost any other, as you’ll see from the third story in the series.

Part 2 of Kyndell Harkness’ journey through IVF… 

First off I want to thank you guys for the nice responses and well wishes. They are very much appreciated. As I tell my story if anyone has any questions or wants a little more detail just let me know. I’m here to serve. Okay, back to my story.

After healing from my last surgery, we decided to ahead with IVF. After doing our homework and chatting to doctors, we found out that apparently, pregnancy hormones can slow or stop the growth of fibroids and endometriosis. Since they grow like weeds in me, IVF seemed to have an added bonus.

At the U clinic, everyone has to go to a couple of informational meetings before starting the process. The first was in September. Boy, was that information overload. You’re in this dark drab room with long tables filled with very eager, very serious couples of all backgrounds. And then there was us. We sat up front and poked fun at each other trying to keep things as light as possible.

We thought it was going to be a quick 45-minute spiel and we get a bunch of pamphlets and we’re out the door. Ah ha ha. Silly rabbit. It was three hours with a PowerPoint slide show, charts and figures, and oh my goodness, my eyes are glazing over again. They described the process step-by-step, outlined all the risks, told you what you’d go through physically and emotionally then went back over all the risks again. It was intense.

Then came the jaw-dropper. The financial lady talked about pricing. Now this is according to my husband because I sort of blanked out at this point. The procedure alone is $9,350. There’s about $2,000 of additional pre-screening costs, and the drugs can quickly run over $4,000. Yeah, pretty dang pricey. Jeff thinks we should name the child Cooper because the cash this is costing us could have been a big down payment on the Mini Cooper he’s been wanting. Apparently, he’s the comedian in the family.

After the meeting, I realized I wasn’t mentally ready. I had two surgeries in two years and was finally feeling healthy again. Did I need to go through another attack on my body? I put off making a decision for two months. I worked out with my workout buddy, ate healthy but not too healthy, and had a really good time. I was ready for meeting number two.

It was more details, more slides, more medical terms, warnings and enough facts to spin your head right off. This time, we had a better idea what we were doing.

Meanwhile, we told family and some friends. Most were excited and happy for us. Then there were the extremes. One friend was so giddy at the thought of us having a kid she nearly broke down in tears. Then there’s the friend who had three friends go through IVF and all had horrible experiences. “Do you really want to go through with this? Adoption is so much easier,” she told us.

So, okay, why are we doing this? Why do I feel like I put down $15,000 on the craps hoping for seven the hard way? Ah yes, I remember. I would like to look at this child and see all those family members who have left us. My dad, Jeff’s grandfathers, my grandmother. To see the people we love in this tiny face. The quirks and freakiness that makes us family. I think that’s worth a shot.

To read Part 1 of Making Baby, click here.