home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1993
/
TIME Almanac 1993.iso
/
time
/
120291
/
1202104.000
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1992-08-28
|
4KB
|
79 lines
NATION, Page 27SCANDALSThe Cruelest Kind of Fraud
A fertility doctor is charged with using his position of power
and trust to secretly father his clients' children
They came to Dr. Cecil Jacobson's Vienna, Va., clinic from
all over the Washington area, women and men desperate to conceive
a child. As a fertility specialist, Jacobson was highly
recommended. He was a brilliant geneticist who helped pioneer
the amniocentesis procedure in the U.S. During office visits he
liked to call himself "the babymaker." "God doesn't give you
babies," he would tell his patients. "I do."
They gave him their trust and their money, but according
to a federal indictment handed up last week, he deceived them.
Not only did the babymaker tell women they were pregnant when
they weren't, say federal officials, but he secretly
inseminated others with his own seed, fathering at least seven
children for couples who thought they were receiving legitimate
donor sperm. "It's basic fraud of the cruelest sort," said U.S.
Attorney Richard Cullen, whose office is prosecuting the case.
The extraordinary charges cap several years of civil
proceedings against the 55-year-old physician, who first came
to the attention of authorities after what seemed to be an
unusual string of false pregnancies. According to the
government, Jacobson was giving patients hormone treatments that
simulated the effects of early pregnancy. At hearings before a
committee of the Virginia Board of Medicine in 1989, several
women wept as they described how Jacobson would show them
sonograms of what he said was their fetus, pointing out
nonexistent heartbeats, fetal movements and thumb-sucking. He
would give them fetal snapshots to take home -- only to announce
several weeks later that their baby had died.
The Virginia board found sufficient evidence to warrant
revoking Jacobson's medical license, despite pleadings by his
attorney that the board was paying too much attention to the
complaints of "disappointed women who had difficulty conceiving"
and ignoring "the other side of the coin," the fact that he had
treated a lot of other women who did get pregnant. Jacobson
agreed to give up his practice and moved to Provo, Utah, where
his father lives.
The latest charges come from some of those other women.
Acting on a tip, several patients requested genetic tests, which
revealed the doctor himself had fathered their babies. According
to the indictment, Jacobson conned patients into thinking he had
an elaborate system for matching sperm donors to particular
physical, mental and social characteristics. But in some cases,
says the government, he was the sole donor.
Jacobson faces 53 felony charges. At his arraignment late
last week, he proclaimed his innocence. His attorney asserted
that if the doctor had used his own sperm, he had done so in
the interests of providing a sample that was "clean and good"
in a time of AIDS.
The disturbing case of Dr. Jacobson underscores a problem
that has plagued the booming field of infertility medicine.
Doctors can claim to be experts on the basis of scant experience
or training. There is no board certification and little
regulation. Now Jacobson has single-handedly made it time for
the Federal Government and organized medicine to crack down on
those who prey on the infertile.
By Philip Elmer-DeWitt. Reported by Dick
Thompson/Washington