Confessions of a Serial Egg Donor

Some women donate eggs to help families. I did it to pay the rent.

In 1990s Los Angeles, I was a broke Swedish immigrant with limited options and unlimited eggs. Egg donation paid better than waitressing, hurt less than telemarketing, and seemed harmless enough—at first. So I did it. Then I did it again. And again.

Twelve times, actually.

I became a super donor, injecting myself with hormones in traffic, recruiting other women into the business, and fielding six-figure offers from couples seeking designer genes. I mastered the donor hustle—until my body had other plans.

When extreme hormone imbalance sent me spiraling and the clinic dismissed it as “personal problems,” I learned the hard way that using your body as an ATM comes at a price.

Unapologetic and darkly funny, Confessions of a Serial Egg Donor isn’t the story of the miracle of modern medicine. It’s about rent money, immigration, and learning your limits—the expensive way.


READER NOTE: This book is not for everyone. If you’re looking for an inspirational story about egg donation, you’ll be disappointed. This is about survival, not sainthood.