The women with four children her husband doesn't know exist

Keeping secrets: Joanne Humphreys with her eldest daughter Rebecca. Joanne has donated her eggs to infertile couples and her husband does not know
12 April 2012

Here, Joanne, 38, originally from Newcastle but now living in Corfu with her husband Christos - who disapproves of donating eggs - tells her story. They have three children. Joanne says:

They say there should be no secrets in a marriage. But Joanne Humphreys has managed to keep from her husband the extraordinary fact that she has donated eggs and so helped create three children, with another on the way.

Most people have a skeleton or two in their closet, perhaps something about their past they don't want their loved ones to know about. My secrets, however, are more unusual than most.

Since 2003, four babies have been conceived that are genetically mine, none of which my husband knows anything about. They are all a result of egg donations I've made in secret, telling him that each hospital visit is for treatment for an ovarian cyst.

Sometimes I wonder about the children of mine who I've never met, whether they've got my blonde hair, blue eyes and raucous laugh. I like to imagine the happiness their existence has brought to their parents.

I know marriages are supposed to be based on trust and honesty, and both those qualities are of utmost importance to me. But egg donation is something I felt very strongly that I wanted to do - and something that Christos, who is from a strict orthodox Greek family, made clear he didn't approve of.

Perhaps, given the vows I took when we married, I should have respected his wishes. But I'm a very strong minded person and I never considered not donating eggs simply because of his old-fashioned, unworldly views.

To me, the plight of a childless woman was of far greater significance - something I understand a little, having had a miscarriage myself and watched a close friend struggle to conceive.

The happy couple: Joanne with her husband Christos, who disapproves of egg donation

My three children have brought both Christos and I so much happiness, that I thought it only right that I help other women experience motherhood, too.

I've told a couple of close friends and my parents, all of whom have been very supportive. I have a vision that I'll finally break the news to Christos when we're both in our 80s and sitting on a porch somewhere in rocking chairs. By then, it will be far too late for him to be angry.

Christos and I met 17 years ago when I was working in Corfu as a holiday rep. We fell in love and moved in together.

A year later, I fell pregnant with our eldest daughter Rebecca - now 14 - who was born in 1993. We had another child, Annetta, who is now 11, three years later.

Christos and I married in a traditional Greek ceremony, in Corfu, when Annetta was three. And with two children, we both decided our family was complete.

But three years later in 2002, I fell accidentally pregnant. It was a shock at first, but the news sank in and we were both delighted.

Sadly, at three months, I miscarried.

Although the baby hadn't been planned, I was devastated. We started trying for another baby within a month, as we both wanted to replace the loss we felt. Luckily, I fell pregnant again very quickly.

But my delight was slightly tapered because at the same time, a close friend of mine was struggling to conceive. She'd tried IVF, which had failed twice.

On one occasion, she received the news her treatment hadn't worked while in my house and I'll never forget the way she crumbled in front of me and broke down.

The image of her sobbing on my shoulder over the child she so desperately wanted haunted me for months to come and I felt terribly guilty telling her I was pregnant again.

Although she tried to be happy for me, I could see the hurt she felt.

One night, thinking of my friend's situation and longing to be able to help her, and other women in the same position, I raised the idea of egg donation with Christos. I'd read an article about it in a magazine and it had appealed to me straightaway.

At first, he looked at me blankly.

He's from a very small rural village and had never even heard of such a thing. Then I explained how IVF clinics harvest eggs from donors which are then fertilised with the other woman's partner's sperm. He made his thoughts completely clear.

"Don't be ridiculous", he said dismissively. "Why would you want to do that?"

In his culture, infertility is put down to nature. I knew straight away there was no point trying to reason with him, so I put egg donation to the back of my mind and decided to concentrate on my pregnancy.

But as soon as Alexandra was born, the thought cropped up again. My resolve was strengthened when my friend visited. I felt terrible as she cooed over Alexandra.

Aa a woman, I have felt the all-encompassing need to have a baby and can only imagine how heart-breaking it must be if that need cannot be met. I mentioned egg donation to Christos one more time, but got the same response. So I decided to go ahead on my own.

I know there are many people who don't understand egg donation, thinking it bizarre to live your life knowing there is a child out there who is genetically related to you. But the way I see it, healthy women lose an egg with every menstrual cycle.

If you don't want that egg then why shouldn't someone else benefit from it? And I don't see it as giving away a baby, or consider myself in any way the child's mother.

I am merely the person who donated a handful of cells to a couple who were desperate for a baby. I don't consider egg donation as that different from giving blood.

In Greece, egg donation can still be done anonymously. But considering how strongly I felt, I would have gone ahead even if it couldn't have been.

When I took Alexandra, who is now four, for her vaccinations two months later in June 2003, I asked her paediatrician if he knew of any clinics looking for egg donors.

Even saying it felt like something of a betrayal to my husband. The doctor passed on the number of Dr Jacob Soussi - a fertility expert in Athens.

I called him a few days later on his mobile. I'll never forget our conversation.

He was driving and when I told him I wanted to be an egg donor he went silent. "I nearly crashed the car," he said after a pause. "No-one has ever rung and asked me that before."

Egg donation in Greece is almost a taboo subject because of the traditional views held by many people.

Dr Soussi had treated 3,500 women at his clinic, but only two women had offered to donate eggs. That drastic shortage made me even more determined to go ahead.

The doctor said he'd be in touch, but it wasn't until November that year, by which point I was back in Newcastle upon Tyne visiting my parents, when his call came.

He told me he had a patient who had undergone IVF 15 times and egg donation was her last resort. I told him I'd do it as soon as I got back to Greece.

The process was relatively straightforward.

My private gynaecologist at a local clinic in Corfu ran a number of blood tests to check I was suitable.

Dr Soussi, back in Athens, sent down the drugs I would need to take.

I was warned that there are risks involved with egg donation - around 20 per cent of women are affected by ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome - which causes excessive stimulation of the ovaries leading to chest, calf and stomach pain; nausea and diarrhoea - and can be fatal in 1 per cent of cases.

Egg 'harvesting' itself, during which eggs are sucked from the ovaries using a needle, is also risky.

It can lead to ruptured ovaries, which can cause permanent infertility and bleeding from the blood vessels surrounding the ovaries.

But, I was assured my health would be monitored every few days by my local clinic. I decided that the chances of anything going wrong were minimal. And at least my own family was complete. Given the risks, I would have hesitated had I still wanted more children of my own.

I knew Christos would never understand, so I told him I had a small cyst that needed treatment in Athens. Being an old-fashioned man, he didn't ask too many questions.

Although in the UK, egg donation takes six weeks, in Greece it happens considerably quicker. In November 2003, for a two-week period, I had to self-inject hormones both to suppress my natural cycle and to stimulate the ovaries so that more than one egg develops.

Some donors experience side effects, but I felt completely normal throughout.

Just over two weeks later, I flew to Athens to have the eggs harvested.

It was done under local anaesthetic and took less than an hour. I was back home the next day, telling Christos everything was fine.

Two weeks later, the doctor phoned and told me the lady in question had fallen pregnant.

I felt so happy for her. I felt as though I'd just been told I was pregnant myself. For days, I walked around with a huge smile on my face. I'd confided in my best friend, who was very supportive, so I was able to share my joy with her.

I didn't plan to donate eggs again.

But six months later, in June 2004, the doctor telephoned again. His patient, he said, had already had a child through egg donation, but the child had died.

Her story broke my heart, but at first I said I couldn't help. It was the middle of high season at our watersports business. But, I couldn't get the woman out of my mind and later that day I phoned the doctor back. I said I could do it as long as I didn't have to stay overnight as I knew Christos needed me at home.

The cyst, I told Christos, had returned. Once more, I took the necessary drugs under the guidance of my gynaecologist and then flew to Athens to have the eggs extracted. I was back at work by 5pm and Christos didn't suspect a thing.

Two weeks later, I rang the doctor and he told me that woman was pregnant. She'd even written me a card. In it, she says how grateful she is and that I'll always be a special person to her.

Then, a few weeks later, the doctor called again. The first woman I'd helped had given birth. He didn't tell me whether it was to a boy or a girl and I didn't ask, but I was elated.

For the next year, I put egg donation to the back of my mind, only thinking occasionally of the two women who, thanks to me, had become mothers.

But the following summer, the doctor phoned again, telling me about the struggle of a couple who'd been trying for year. I didn't need any convincing and once more, I underwent treatment. Sadly, on this occasion it didn't work.

After three donations, Dr Soussi advised me that perhaps I shouldn't do it again because of the possible risks involved. But I wanted to donate one more time. After all, I told myself, many women have IVF treatment countless times without causing themselves any harm at all.

This time, I felt I should help someone back home in Newcastle, so I joined some forums on egg donor websites based in the UK and took up contact with a couple who'd had five failed attempts at IVF.

Christos didn't suspect a thing. And this would be my last donation, so in my mind I really didn't have to tell him.

But in April last year, Dr Soussi called and gave me the opportunity to help again. I felt I couldn't let him down, or the couple in Newcastle, so I decided to do both.

I donated to the Greek couple in May and flew to Newcastle to donate to the British couple last autumn. I couldn't do the process anonymously in the UK because of the law change, but that didn't matter to me. If the child wants to find me that's fine, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

Both couples conceived - the British couple have had their baby and the Greek couple's baby is due soon - and so, after five donations, four of which were successful, I decided it was time to stop.

I do feel bad about lying to Christos, and my cover will be blown if he gets hold of this newspaper in Corfu.

But he can't read English, so the chances of him finding out are slim.

Despite everything, I'm proud of what I've done and how I've helped change the lives of four families. We all love our children, but each of those babies I've helped create are extra special, as they were wanted so much. That, to me, is the greatest gift I could ever have given anyone.

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