Is it Reasonable to Expect Alimony for Your Eggs?

human eggsA previous New York Times article had an op-ed piece by Sarah Elizabeth Richards, author of “Motherhood Rescheduled: The New Frontier of Egg Freezing and the Women Who Tried It”.

In that op-ed piece Ms. Richards discusses the case of a 38 year old woman who is asking her soon to be ex-husband of 8 years to pay $20,000 to cover the cost of her egg freezing procedure, medication costs and several years of egg storage on the grounds that when they got married they started with the expectation they would start a family and now she may not have that chance much longer.

The couple had been unsuccessful in fertility treatments and as part of her legal case she is arguing that since fertility treatments were part of the marriage, they should be considered part of the marital lifestyle, which should be maintained as long as possible post-divorce.

The lawyer representing the woman is quoted in the article as saying that he hopes the case settles out of court. Should this go to court it would be a case of first impression in the country and we will all be watching what happens.

Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/07/opinion/alimony-for-your-eggs.html?_r=0

 

Patricia Annino is a sought after speaker and nationally recognized authority on women and estate planning. She educates and empowers women to value themselves and their contributions in order to ACCOMPLISH GREAT THINGS in the world – and in so doing PROTECT THEMSELVES, those they love, and the organizations they care about. Annino recently released her new book, “It’s More Than Money, Protect Your Legacy” available at Amazon.com. To download Annino’s FREE eBook, Estate Planning 101 visit, http://www.patriciaannino.com.

A Generous (and Unwanted) Gift

people in bed image, estate planning tipsBy MICHAEL BAHLER

My father has always been generous with his money. I didn’t have to pay for college or law school or even for the confused year I spent at Princeton taking graduate courses in sociology.

When my mother was sick, I moved back from Washington to be near her and help with her care. While there, I tried to start a legal-research business, for which my father paid the start-up costs and then the winding-down expenses. Most of the money in my children’s college funds is from him.

He would cover random needs, too, like sending me home after a visit with new boxer shorts, dress socks and Allen Edmonds loafers (size 11½, even though I am a 12). He had bought these things for himself but wanted me to have them and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“He’s like his mother,” my mother said, smiling. “Except instead of trying to get you to eat food, he gives you underwear.”

As a successful cardiologist, my father can afford to be generous. He never invested in stocks, but he earned a lot and lived a frugal life. Besides buying laptop computers and a Volvo station wagon every seven years, the man buys almost nothing. He doesn’t take vacations or go to Atlantic City.

My sister recently treated him to dinner at a nice restaurant. When I asked him how it was, he said: “Good. But Burger King is just as good.”

After my mother died, my father told me he was giving me his house.

This offer was different, and not just because a house is obviously a big gift.

My father had not slept in my parents’ bedroom since my mother died, choosing a couch in the family room where she spent her final weeks in a rented hospital bed.

In the months since her death, he had not cleaned out any of her things, not even the wig she wore to chemotherapy.

It seemed he was desperate to leave the house to escape the reminders of my mother, but he couldn’t bring himself to sell it because there was too much history.

My two sisters already had houses they were happy with. The only way he was going to get to leave was if I agreed to take it. But my father couldn’t tell me why he really wanted to leave the house, so he made it seem as if he were doing it all for me.

“Your two boys need a house,” he said. “They need a backyard. Your wife wants a house.”

My wife, Jen, had been wanting to move out of our apartment and into a house, and she appraised my parents’ home objectively. It was in a good neighborhood on a quiet street. The backyard was big and level, so our boys could run loose and she wouldn’t have to trek to a playground.

The house was small; my parents had bought it right after my father finished his residency, when they had little money. With few windows and stained wood paneling, it was also dark and out of date. But Jen said if we didn’t have a mortgage we could take our savings and remodel.

To me, it was the house I grew up in and the place where my cancer-riddled mother had just died. And while I may be wearing my father’s boxers, I wasn’t going to move back into his house. I kept telling him no.

“You’re making a mistake,” he would say in a singsong voice.

“So be it,” I would singsong back.

In earlier times it was common for people to stay in the house in which they were raised. But these days leaving home permanently is the goal, and to move back feels like the ultimate failure.

Plus, I had been a high-school misfit with few friends and I still avoided restaurants and other public places in my hometown for fear of bumping into former classmates. I couldn’t see moving to a place where I would have to go into hiding.

And if I took the house I knew I would never be able to sell it because I couldn’t even bring myself to throw out scrap paper with my mother’s handwriting on it.

In February, I called my father to tell him my youngest son had said his first word.

“You’re missing out on a great house,” he said.

“Don’t you want to know the word?”

“It’s got dual-zone heating and air-conditioning. Andersen windows. Solid oak doors and cabinets.” My father had installed the doors and cabinets himself.

When I was a child, my parents were always looking for a better house, and on weekends they’d drag us along to see all these pricey homes. I would fight with my sisters in the back seat and then complain I was bored as we toured each house. If I had known I was looking for a home for my future wife and children, I would have paid much more attention.

“The dishwasher’s still great after 40 years,” my father said.

“No,” I told him.

In May, I called to wish him a happy birthday.

“You know, your son would do much better in this house,” he said.

My eldest was having serious kidney issues at the time.

“It’s all the dust in your apartment,” my father said. “The air is horrible there. You need to bring him to this house. It’s like the country here. You’re harming your son by staying at that apartment.”

My father was a doctor, so I couldn’t totally dismiss his opinion. To be safe, I mentioned his dust theory to my son’s New York nephrologist, who shook her head and looked at me as if I were bonkers.

In July, I asked my father when we were having Mom’s unveiling.

“She’s still in the house, Michael. I can feel her here. She’ll look after you. She’ll look after your family.”

“You think I want to move to a house where Mom died?” I said. “You think that doesn’t affect me also?”

“You could always knock down the house and build something you like,” he said.

“So Mom’s still in the house, but you want me to knock it down?”

“Think about it financially.”

I didn’t want to think about it financially.

“You wouldn’t have to take out a mortgage.”

I put thoughts about not having a mortgage out of my head.

“Why don’t you move to the house,” he said, “and if you don’t like it after a year, sell it and find someplace you like?”

“You’d really let me sell it?”

“It would be your house. That would be up to you.”

I felt as if I was being conned, but it would be a great financial move. Plus, who was to say my father wouldn’t remarry and leave everything to his new wife? The house might be my only chance at an inheritance.

“No, Dad, I can’t do it.”

“Mistake.”

“Don’t you want more for me than to live in that house? Why would you want me to live there?” I was on the verge of tears.

“It’s a great house.”

Over the next year, he kept pushing. I’d be seduced by the positives and then unnerved by the negatives.

Finally he told me he had already given me the house and showed me a property tax bill with both our names on it. Without telling me, he had gone to a lawyer and made us joint owners.

“That doesn’t mean I have to take it,” I told him.

He kept on me until my views began to shift. Maybe he had just worn me down, but the numbers suddenly seemed better, and I stopped thinking about the negatives. Jen and I decided to take the house and we moved in.

In our apartment, I slept on the right side of the bed and Jen slept on the left. But it felt weird to be in my parents’ bedroom sleeping on what was my father’s side of the bed, even though it wasn’t his bed; he had taken that to his new house three blocks away.

I begged Jen to let me switch sides and she agreed. I thought it would be better until I realized I was sleeping on my mother’s side, and that felt equally weird.

“Can we switch back?” I asked.

She moaned and I crossed over her.

I stayed there for a while and then inched toward the middle, where I had sometimes slept as a child when my parents let me come in after I had a nightmare.

I woke the next morning splayed across the bed, feeling anxious and unsettled. But then the sunlight beamed at me through the blinds, and I heard my two boys frolicking in the hallway, happily oblivious to history.

Time to put on a pair of my father’s boxers and start my new life.

Michael Bahler, a writer, lives in New Jersey.

Source: The New York Times www.nytimes.com

Patricia Annino is a sought after speaker and nationally recognized authority on women and estate planning. She educates and empowers women to value themselves and their contributions in order to ACCOMPLISH GREAT THINGS in the world – and in so doing PROTECT THEMSELVES, those they love, and the organizations they care about. Annino recently released her new book, “It’s More Than Money, Protect Your Legacy” available at Amazon.com. To download Annino’s FREE eBook, Estate Planning 101 visit, http://www.patriciaannino.com.

The Way-Early ‘529’ Gift

Grandparents Can Start a College-Savings Plan Before a Baby Is Born

By Peter S. Green

Photo illustration by John Weber

So you just threw your daughter a big wedding. Now comes the not-so-obvious next step: setting up “529” plans for estate planning, estate planning tips,the future grandchildren.

If that seems like rushing things, think again. With the average four-year price of a private college nearing $165,000 and rising 3.7% a year, anxious families are looking at lots of strategies for helping future grandchildren get a college education. One strategy is to open a 529 college-savings plan and have it start growing years before the future student is even born.

After all, anyone can start a 529, which is funded with after-tax income; the fund’s earnings and principal will be untaxed as long as the money goes to expenses that qualify as higher education. It makes particular sense for older parents with adult children to open a 529, as it helps get the savings ball rolling early. Moreover, if they later transfer ownership of the account to their grown children, both generations can benefit from some gift-tax exemptions.

Benefit Keeps on Giving

Jim Holtzman of Legend Financial Advisors in Pittsburgh explains: If a future grandparent starts a 529 whose beneficiary is the future parent, the grandparent can contribute tax-free up to $70,000—five years’ worth of contributions at $14,000 a year—or up to $140,000 for two grandparents. When an infant arrives with his or her own Social Security number, the parents—or the grandparents who still own the account—can designate the newborn as the beneficiary. Such transfers will likely avoid taxes, though they will eat into the donor’s lifetime gift allowance of $5.34 million.

In addition to increasing the amount of giving both sets of parents can do without owing gift tax, this can help wealthier grandparents reduce their estate below taxable level, particularly in states such as New York and Pennsylvania, where state estate-tax exemptions are far lower than the 2014 federal level, also $5.34 million.

Grandparents and parents can be tempted to maintain ownership of the account to help keep Junior on the straight and narrow. “The advantage of using a 529 is that the account-owner retains control, so when the kid graduates from high school, she’s not going to buy a Harley,” says Nancy Farmer, chief executive of the Tuition Plan Consortium, a group of 277 colleges in 39 states that lets parents (and grandparents) prepay tuition.

But if grandparents hang on to a 529 account, it can hurt a student’s eligibility for aid. Distributions from a parent-owned or custodial 529 reduce federal financial aid by just over 5% of the distributed amount. But distributions from a grandparent-owned 529 can reduce eligibility by half the distributed amount, says Mark Kantrowitz, publisher of Edvisors.com, a website advising on funding college education.

And while grandparents’ assets aren’t considered in aid decisions by state schools, they do figure in some private-college aid grants, says Maura Griffin, a principal of Blue Spark Capital Advisors in New York.

Five Years Ahead?

When is the right time for prospective grandparents to act? Right now, says Cameron Casey, an estate-planning lawyer with Ropes & Grey in Boston. Waiting until a grandchild is born to start a 529 for them can mean years of lost earnings potential.

A 529 plan started with the maximum $14,000 initial gift, five years before a child is born, funded with $500 every month and earning interest at 3% compounded monthly, would yield $226,784 by the child’s 18th birthday. The same plan started at birth would yield $167,336.

Of course, the future is unpredictable. If a future grandparent thinks he or she may not live to see a grandchild’s birth, a will can provide for an executor or trustee to carry out 529 plans using assets in a revocable trust.

For grandparents concerned about what to do if the grandchild doesn’t go to college or has sudden medical needs, a special trust might be a better vehicle, says Ms. Casey, as it will allow more flexibility. Using a 529’s funds for something besides higher education will trigger a 10% penalty and make the earnings taxable.

If no grandchild ever arrives, it can be possible to reassign the account to a close relative without owing taxes or penalty.

Source: WSJ.com   http://online.wsj.com/articles/grandparents-can-make-early-529-gifts-1415048467

Patricia Annino is a sought after speaker and nationally recognized authority on women and estate planning. She educates and empowers women to value themselves and their contributions in order to ACCOMPLISH GREAT THINGS in the world – and in so doing PROTECT THEMSELVES, those they love, and the organizations they care about. Annino recently released her new book, “It’s More Than Money, Protect Your Legacy” available at Amazon.com. To download Annino’s FREE eBook, Estate Planning 101 visit, http://www.patriciaannino.com.

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