Our fertility industry is a mess. As a donor, I know what could fix it

It pains me to say Australia's fertility industry is a mess because it's a system into which I've donated sperm to create humans, in good faith.
You'd hope, after the notorious malpractice of past practitioners, the industry – which insists it's reformed from those bad old days – would enforce the strictest of procedures and the most watertight regulation. Sadly not. The profit-driven industry regulates itself, which is proving problematic, to say the least.
Staff report being burnt out enough to make mistakes, and the mistakes have emerged with alarming pace in recent weeks. Monash IVF has twice transferred the wrong embryo into a woman. The first time, reported in April, experts said that, while it was worrying, it was an extremely rare, isolated case of human error. Then it happened again last month.
My own investigation this week revealed two leading Australian fertility clinics – both owned by Virtus Health – are sending sperm donors inaccurate lists of the children born from their donation. Donors are being introduced to children who are potentially not even biologically theirs. Melbourne IVF sent one donor the wrong child list three times. He's now distressed the kids he has formed relationships with aren't related to him.
While voices calling for calm seek to reassure us that Australia remains a very safe place to receive fertility treatment, try telling that to the anguished and conflicted donors who spoke to me. Or to the two women who gave birth to children who aren't theirs.
Loading
These problems are the tip of the iceberg too. The fertility industry is a bureaucratic quagmire, and it feels like it is now in crisis. It is governed by more than 40 pieces of differing state legislation in nine jurisdictions. It should be governed by a statutory, nationally applicable set of regulations.
Urgent changes are clearly needed, which is why a rapid review of the industry was announced by federal Health Minister Mark Butler. He has his work cut out. The most important stakeholders he must listen to are donor-conceived people themselves – the humans created from this industry. They have a set of requests he should prioritise above all others.
But as a donor, if we could add one urgent thing to his to-review list, it would be this. Clinics should build in and pay for DNA testing of donors and the children born from their donations as part of their later matching procedures.

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Learn with AIFact CheckingText to SpeechAI Summary

Related Articles

The Advertiser

3 hours ago

• The Advertiser

'I have to beg charities to help us': Janine's heartbreaking struggle to live

Janine Aqil doesn't know how long she has to live. Mrs Aqil, of Maitland, has incurable bile duct cancer. The 28-year-old was studying to be a teacher for children with special needs before she was diagnosed last year. "It's extremely hard. I'm trying to stay positive and not constantly think about the negative," she said. Her cancer was discovered after she went for a blood test in pregnancy planning. "The cancer markers were clear, but it was showing some kind of infection," she said. "I went through specific cancer blood tests and they came back clear. Then my doctor sent me to get an X-ray, CT scan and ultrasound. "I got a call from the radiology clinic telling me to go to hospital because there's something not right." She was admitted to hospital for further tests. "I eventually got an MRI and then a liver biopsy. That's when they found it was actually cancer. It came as a big shock." Janine's mum Trish Bolan started a GoFundMe for her daughter. Ms Bolan, who lives near Gloucester, said the diagnosis had "completely turned our lives upside down". "If you know Janine, then you know how humble, polite and caring she is with an absolute heart of gold," Ms Bolan said. She said the family was struggling to afford rent, bills, medicine and "basic things". Janine's husband, Arsalan Aqil, said "we're going through absolute hell". "There's not a single day we don't cry," said Mr Aqil, 35. "I just look after my wife at home. She's not able to walk properly due to extensive weakness caused by chemo. "We both have anxiety and depression. We are suffering financially, emotionally and physically." Mr Aqil, who was born in Pakistan, is not an Australian citizen. "We solely rely on my wife's disability payments and most of that goes on rent. Then we are barely left with anything. I have to beg charities to help us." Mr Aqil was lonely until he met his wife. "My wife means everything to me. I just want her to get better," he said. "My approach to life changed when I met her. Then I started planning to be a better provider and get us somewhere in life." He dreamed of studying medicine or IT. Mrs Aqil can't have surgery because the cancer is on both sides of her liver. "I'm not eligible for a transplant because it's in lymph nodes and part of the pelvis," she said. "I recently had a second liver biopsy to get more tissue samples, so they can do tests to see what clinical trials I could possibly do." She is being treated with chemotherapy tablets, as receiving intravenous treatment left her bedridden for days. Her cancer is stable. "There's nothing that will 100 per cent cure it, but it can be under control," she said. They are drawing on their faith to get through the ordeal. "Every day is a struggle for us. We don't feel like waking up, but we have to," Mr Aqil said. Janine Aqil doesn't know how long she has to live. Mrs Aqil, of Maitland, has incurable bile duct cancer. The 28-year-old was studying to be a teacher for children with special needs before she was diagnosed last year. "It's extremely hard. I'm trying to stay positive and not constantly think about the negative," she said. Her cancer was discovered after she went for a blood test in pregnancy planning. "The cancer markers were clear, but it was showing some kind of infection," she said. "I went through specific cancer blood tests and they came back clear. Then my doctor sent me to get an X-ray, CT scan and ultrasound. "I got a call from the radiology clinic telling me to go to hospital because there's something not right." She was admitted to hospital for further tests. "I eventually got an MRI and then a liver biopsy. That's when they found it was actually cancer. It came as a big shock." Janine's mum Trish Bolan started a GoFundMe for her daughter. Ms Bolan, who lives near Gloucester, said the diagnosis had "completely turned our lives upside down". "If you know Janine, then you know how humble, polite and caring she is with an absolute heart of gold," Ms Bolan said. She said the family was struggling to afford rent, bills, medicine and "basic things". Janine's husband, Arsalan Aqil, said "we're going through absolute hell". "There's not a single day we don't cry," said Mr Aqil, 35. "I just look after my wife at home. She's not able to walk properly due to extensive weakness caused by chemo. "We both have anxiety and depression. We are suffering financially, emotionally and physically." Mr Aqil, who was born in Pakistan, is not an Australian citizen. "We solely rely on my wife's disability payments and most of that goes on rent. Then we are barely left with anything. I have to beg charities to help us." Mr Aqil was lonely until he met his wife. "My wife means everything to me. I just want her to get better," he said. "My approach to life changed when I met her. Then I started planning to be a better provider and get us somewhere in life." He dreamed of studying medicine or IT. Mrs Aqil can't have surgery because the cancer is on both sides of her liver. "I'm not eligible for a transplant because it's in lymph nodes and part of the pelvis," she said. "I recently had a second liver biopsy to get more tissue samples, so they can do tests to see what clinical trials I could possibly do." She is being treated with chemotherapy tablets, as receiving intravenous treatment left her bedridden for days. Her cancer is stable. "There's nothing that will 100 per cent cure it, but it can be under control," she said. They are drawing on their faith to get through the ordeal. "Every day is a struggle for us. We don't feel like waking up, but we have to," Mr Aqil said. Janine Aqil doesn't know how long she has to live. Mrs Aqil, of Maitland, has incurable bile duct cancer. The 28-year-old was studying to be a teacher for children with special needs before she was diagnosed last year. "It's extremely hard. I'm trying to stay positive and not constantly think about the negative," she said. Her cancer was discovered after she went for a blood test in pregnancy planning. "The cancer markers were clear, but it was showing some kind of infection," she said. "I went through specific cancer blood tests and they came back clear. Then my doctor sent me to get an X-ray, CT scan and ultrasound. "I got a call from the radiology clinic telling me to go to hospital because there's something not right." She was admitted to hospital for further tests. "I eventually got an MRI and then a liver biopsy. That's when they found it was actually cancer. It came as a big shock." Janine's mum Trish Bolan started a GoFundMe for her daughter. Ms Bolan, who lives near Gloucester, said the diagnosis had "completely turned our lives upside down". "If you know Janine, then you know how humble, polite and caring she is with an absolute heart of gold," Ms Bolan said. She said the family was struggling to afford rent, bills, medicine and "basic things". Janine's husband, Arsalan Aqil, said "we're going through absolute hell". "There's not a single day we don't cry," said Mr Aqil, 35. "I just look after my wife at home. She's not able to walk properly due to extensive weakness caused by chemo. "We both have anxiety and depression. We are suffering financially, emotionally and physically." Mr Aqil, who was born in Pakistan, is not an Australian citizen. "We solely rely on my wife's disability payments and most of that goes on rent. Then we are barely left with anything. I have to beg charities to help us." Mr Aqil was lonely until he met his wife. "My wife means everything to me. I just want her to get better," he said. "My approach to life changed when I met her. Then I started planning to be a better provider and get us somewhere in life." He dreamed of studying medicine or IT. Mrs Aqil can't have surgery because the cancer is on both sides of her liver. "I'm not eligible for a transplant because it's in lymph nodes and part of the pelvis," she said. "I recently had a second liver biopsy to get more tissue samples, so they can do tests to see what clinical trials I could possibly do." She is being treated with chemotherapy tablets, as receiving intravenous treatment left her bedridden for days. Her cancer is stable. "There's nothing that will 100 per cent cure it, but it can be under control," she said. They are drawing on their faith to get through the ordeal. "Every day is a struggle for us. We don't feel like waking up, but we have to," Mr Aqil said. Janine Aqil doesn't know how long she has to live. Mrs Aqil, of Maitland, has incurable bile duct cancer. The 28-year-old was studying to be a teacher for children with special needs before she was diagnosed last year. "It's extremely hard. I'm trying to stay positive and not constantly think about the negative," she said. Her cancer was discovered after she went for a blood test in pregnancy planning. "The cancer markers were clear, but it was showing some kind of infection," she said. "I went through specific cancer blood tests and they came back clear. Then my doctor sent me to get an X-ray, CT scan and ultrasound. "I got a call from the radiology clinic telling me to go to hospital because there's something not right." She was admitted to hospital for further tests. "I eventually got an MRI and then a liver biopsy. That's when they found it was actually cancer. It came as a big shock." Janine's mum Trish Bolan started a GoFundMe for her daughter. Ms Bolan, who lives near Gloucester, said the diagnosis had "completely turned our lives upside down". "If you know Janine, then you know how humble, polite and caring she is with an absolute heart of gold," Ms Bolan said. She said the family was struggling to afford rent, bills, medicine and "basic things". Janine's husband, Arsalan Aqil, said "we're going through absolute hell". "There's not a single day we don't cry," said Mr Aqil, 35. "I just look after my wife at home. She's not able to walk properly due to extensive weakness caused by chemo. "We both have anxiety and depression. We are suffering financially, emotionally and physically." Mr Aqil, who was born in Pakistan, is not an Australian citizen. "We solely rely on my wife's disability payments and most of that goes on rent. Then we are barely left with anything. I have to beg charities to help us." Mr Aqil was lonely until he met his wife. "My wife means everything to me. I just want her to get better," he said. "My approach to life changed when I met her. Then I started planning to be a better provider and get us somewhere in life." He dreamed of studying medicine or IT. Mrs Aqil can't have surgery because the cancer is on both sides of her liver. "I'm not eligible for a transplant because it's in lymph nodes and part of the pelvis," she said. "I recently had a second liver biopsy to get more tissue samples, so they can do tests to see what clinical trials I could possibly do." She is being treated with chemotherapy tablets, as receiving intravenous treatment left her bedridden for days. Her cancer is stable. "There's nothing that will 100 per cent cure it, but it can be under control," she said. They are drawing on their faith to get through the ordeal. "Every day is a struggle for us. We don't feel like waking up, but we have to," Mr Aqil said.

Perth Now

5 hours ago

• Perth Now

How one wellness habit redeemed a life of addiction

At 23, John Ogilvie hit rock bottom. After years of substance abuse, he made the painful decision to end his life because he felt like a burden to everyone around him. Thankfully he survived and that moment became a turning point. Mr Ogilvie slowly rebuilt his life. After exploring spirituality, he eventually took a leap of faith into a new path and says he's never looked he's in a much better place and lives and breathes yoga. But it was not always this way. The now 68-year-old was only 12 when he first turned to alcohol. As a teen, he felt like he didn't fit in. Drinking made him feel different, it was his way of finding connection and a sense of belonging. It was about five years later when Mr Ogilvie went from taking speed, acid and other hallucinogens to dabbling with heroin. This sparked the beginning of a relentless cycle that had him in its grip for a decade. "From 17 to 27, I was swinging between using narcotics obsessively to trying to get off narcotics, particularly heroin," he says. "It became a merry-go-round ... a very unhappy life." Hitting a wall of darkness, Mr Ogilvie began to think there was "no purpose to live". "I was lost and in a deep depression," he says. "I had buried myself in debt. I was at a physical low and not capable of working. I couldn't see anywhere else to turn to other than to just end my life." Despite his intentions, Mr Ogilvie woke days after falling into a coma. Some time later, he found himself in a detox centre and speaking with a priest who told him he'd survived for a reason. "Maybe there was a purpose in my life," he remembers thinking. It was at Victoria's Pleasant View Centre that he was first introduced to yoga. He recalls one night in the facility, a staff member photocopying sheets of yoga poses. He he went on to practice them daily. Although subsequently relapsing, Mr Ogilvie eventually entered another residential rehab facility that changed everything for him. The Buttery, in NSW's Northern Rivers region, supports people dealing with alcohol and drug addiction as well as mental health challenges, helping them recover and rebuild their lives. During his five-month stay in 1986, everything finally began falling into place. He credits a combination of the spiritual guidelines of the centre's program and the practices and philosophies of yoga for his transformation. It was during this time he began to truly heal and discover his purpose. "The Buttery really taught (me) life skills I hadn't developed in adulthood like how to clean the house, cook meals and socialise in a sober way with other people," Mr Ogilvie says. "The 12-step program gives people tools to continue with their recovery after they leave there." The year before his stay, the centre was referenced in Paul Kelly's hit To Her Door, which would eventually go seven times platinum and ranks among the top Australian songs of all time. Chief executive Leone Crayden says The Buttery has helped thousands in residential rehabilitation and 20,000 in its community outreach programs over its 50-year history. "Many people stay within the area and this assists in nurturing a special community of people who believe in sober living and giving back to the community," she tells AAP. "Our graduates are entrepreneurs, lawyers, clinical psychologists, Aboriginal artists and mentors to many people seeking recovery." Ms Crayden says the centre is also home to a community and lived experience program. "The counsellors, case managers, co-ordinators and managers of the rehabilitation program have been through The Buttery themselves and gone on to obtain qualifications in social work, nursing and counselling, and are valued for their lived experience." After completing his time there, Mr Ogilvie moved to Sydney and obsessively attended classes to become a yoga instructor. Soon after, he found himself back up north where he opened his own studio, the Byron Yoga Centre. It specialises in Purna yoga, a holistic practice combining physical posture with philosophy, meditation, breathwork and ethical living. The centre also offers eco-friendly accommodation and a mindful vegetarian diet. Mr Ogilvie remains connected to The Buttery, supporting others on their journey. "Yoga has so much depth and interest to it and that's where my passion is," he says. "People can come and I can give them skills that can really help turn their life around. It's jus not for recovering addicts but also big-time CEOs who are stressed and feeling unhealthy in their life. "Yoga is really for everybody." It sounds simple but Mr Ogilvie remains hopeful for the future and vision he's built. As living proof yoga is truly life-changing, he wants to continue teaching and promoting it for everyone. Lifeline 13 11 14 beyondblue 1300 22 4636

The Age

8 hours ago

• The Age

The hidden cost of being diagnosed with a condition men can't get

Australia's 'gender-neutral' healthcare system is failing women in their most vulnerable stages of life, according to a new report that found dramatically higher rates of mental illness among women with physical conditions that don't affect men. More than half of Australian women now live with mental health issues, and one in four have severe mental health conditions, according to the latest report by advocacy group the Liptember Foundation and the George Institute of Global Health. Women with female-specific physical health conditions, such as endometriosis, gynaecological cancers and birth trauma, have significantly higher rates of psychological distress than healthy women or those whose health concerns are also experienced by men. The findings are based on a nationally representative survey of 7000 women conducted by Neilsen in March. Liptember Foundation research lead Katrina Locandro said women were 'being failed by a system that was never designed with their needs in mind'. 'Women's mental health is not a niche issue. It needs to be a national priority,' she said. The survey found an alarming rise in body image issues for 14- to 19-year-olds (from 48 per cent in 2024 to 64 per cent in 2025) as well as suicidal thoughts and self-harm (16 per cent to 25 per cent) in the same age group. More than one in three menopausal or perimenopausal women had depression or anxiety (37 per cent).