DNA drama over late sperm doctor
For almost three decades a Dutch doctor helped thousands of women to conceive – apparently often using his own sperm
Fertility doctor Jan Karbaat’s body might be dug up to establish if he had used his own sperm to help women conceive.
HE CALLED himself a “pioneer of fertilisation” and held the hopes of hundreds of women in his hands – women who desperately wanted a baby and turned to him to make their dream come true. Dr Jan Karbaat’s fertility clinic in Rotterdam in the Netherlands offered patients in-vitro fertilisation from sperm harvested from dozens of donors.
Yet instead of using samples the women had chosen specifically to “father” their babies, the doctor duped them in a terrible act of betrayal – he used his own sperm and could have fathered up to 60 children in the process.
Karbaat died last month at the age of 89, but that isn’t stopping 23 people – including mothers and people conceived via IVF at the doctor’s Bijdorp Medical Centre – from taking the matter to court.
They want DNA tests carried out on Karbaat’s personal items to confirm their suspicions – and maybe even for his body to be exhumed.
The matter exploded when one of the plaintiffs, 36-year-old psychiatrist Moniek Wassenaar, embarked on a mission to find out who her biological father was – she’d known she was conceived via IVF but wanted to know more about the man who’d been instrumental in the process.
When her picture appeared in a newspaper alongside an article about her quest, an anonymous tipster pointed out her strong resemblance to Karbaat, who ran his clinic from his elegant Rotterdam home between 1980 and 2009.
In 2010 she decided to get in touch with the ageing doctor to find out if he was her father. And a can of worms was opened.
‘Let me see your hands – yes, you could be a kid of mine’
KARBAAT not only agreed to meet Moniek, he calmly admitted he probably was her biological father. “He said to me, ‘Let me see your hands – yes, you could be a kid of mine’,” Moniek recalls.
She also shares his wide mouth, high forehead and high cheekbones. Karbaat seemed unfazed about his possible paternity but when she asked him if he’d take a DNA test he declined, so she decided to drop the matter.
But her feelings changed when she learnt other people were trying to find out if he was their biological father too. Karbaat’s potential children have now launched the court case to determine their paternity and Moniek is one of the plaintiffs.
“I’m hoping the judge will allow us to extract the DNA,” she says.
About 10 000 children are estimated to have been conceived at the Bijdorp Medical Centre, one of the country’s largest sperm banks, in the ’80s and ’90s.
Women who went to the clinic say Karbaat told them he was getting “fresh seed” from a room next to the insemination area – instead, they allege, he came back with a sample of his own sperm.
Many of the women say they’ve noticed physical similarities between Karbaat and their children, including eye colour, that don’t match their official donor’s characteristics.
“They say it feels like they were raped by Karbaat,” says Tim Bueters, the lawyer representing the plaintiffs.
The clinic closed under a cloud in 2009 and a government probe concluded in 2015 that the operation’s record-keeping was so poor that none of the donors’ identities could be deemed reliable under the law.
The clinic also didn’t meet the requisite storage standards. Rumours of impropriety and wrongdoing began to circulate after a genetic test on two children conceived at the clinic found they were only biological half-siblings – not full siblings as their mother had been told.
Over the years, Karbaat allegedly falsified his data, analyses and donor descriptions and exceeded the allowed number of six children per donor.
After the commission’s finding, the plaintiffs began preparing their case – but Karbaat died before it could be filed. They’re now asking the authorities to release items, including a toothbrush and a nose-hair trimmer, that were seized from the doctor’s home soon after his death.
“It’s a fundamental right to know where one came from,” Bueters told the court. “It’s a question of identity; it helps someone form their personality.”
Complicating matters is the fact Karbaat had issued a written request that no DNA samples be taken from him. Lisette de Haan, the lawyer for Karbaat’s family, has urged the court to respect the doctor’s wishes and the family’s right to privacy.
“There isn’t the slightest evidence Dr Karbaat was the donor,” she said.
But the court could call for a test on one of Karbaat’s legitimate children or even order that his body be dug up.
ESTHER Heij is another plaintiff. On paper, her son and daughter were conceived with sperm from the same donor – but in reality her daughter could well be Karbaat’s. “As a mother this judgment won’t give me anything,” she says. “But I see at home how my son’s life has been affected. He was so angry when Karbaat died and that he was taking this to his grave.
“Tests are underway but it’s not clear if they’re really brother and sister,” she said. “My daughter looks like Karbaat . . . tall and thin.”
Karbaat was proud of what he’d done, Moniek recently told the Dutch media. She said he boasted he was in good health and intelligent so he could share some of his genes with the world. “He saw it as something noble. He had no concept of ethics and minimised the impact on the children.”
For Moniek certainty about the identity of her father is paramount for her sense of self.
“I think I’m his biological child and I hope I get that confirmation,” she said. “I hope I was right to trust my gut.” The Rotterdam clinic run by Karbaat closed in 2009 amid reports of irregularities.