I thought about egg freezing at least three years ago. I was 29 or 30, very idealistic about having a great, loving family some day, and very realistic about the fact that the basic ingredients required for starting a family were not currently present in my life: husband, career environment conducive to working mothers, and financial means.
Back in 2007, my "finger in the air" assessment of the message from the reproductive community was that doctors were bullish on women having children late into their 30s and early 40s with the help of reproductive treatments. Egg freezing existed as a possibility, but it seemed less necessary in this confident environment in which fertility doctors were demi-gods, giving the precious gift of newborn babies to older women who had pushed the limits of time. I always liked the idea of freezing my eggs as a concept (postpone having children until factors aligned themselves in my life for optimal family-making), but I was suspicious that egg freezing was a fad that preyed on the insecurity of unattached women. I wasn't sure if the science was really there anyway. The idea that doctors could successfully freeze the largest cell in the body for a significant period of time, then successfully unfreeze it, fertilize it, and transfer the embryo into my uterus seemed like a quixotic promise. My frozen steaks developed freezer burn within two weeks; how could they successfully freeze my eggs for 10+ years?
I thought about it regularly since, wondering if I should sell some of my investments to undergo the procedure. My career was going well, but I was in a very demanding, competitive industry, and I did not feel like I could have a child any time soon. Add to that the fact that there were no bona fide suitors on my horizon. While I was always OK with the idea of having a kid on my own, my income at the time did not support that dream. I had always thought that I could be lucky enough to have my mom as caregiver, but her situation at the time would not allow it.
Back in 2007, my "finger in the air" assessment of the message from the reproductive community was that doctors were bullish on women having children late into their 30s and early 40s with the help of reproductive treatments. Egg freezing existed as a possibility, but it seemed less necessary in this confident environment in which fertility doctors were demi-gods, giving the precious gift of newborn babies to older women who had pushed the limits of time. I always liked the idea of freezing my eggs as a concept (postpone having children until factors aligned themselves in my life for optimal family-making), but I was suspicious that egg freezing was a fad that preyed on the insecurity of unattached women. I wasn't sure if the science was really there anyway. The idea that doctors could successfully freeze the largest cell in the body for a significant period of time, then successfully unfreeze it, fertilize it, and transfer the embryo into my uterus seemed like a quixotic promise. My frozen steaks developed freezer burn within two weeks; how could they successfully freeze my eggs for 10+ years?
I thought about it regularly since, wondering if I should sell some of my investments to undergo the procedure. My career was going well, but I was in a very demanding, competitive industry, and I did not feel like I could have a child any time soon. Add to that the fact that there were no bona fide suitors on my horizon. While I was always OK with the idea of having a kid on my own, my income at the time did not support that dream. I had always thought that I could be lucky enough to have my mom as caregiver, but her situation at the time would not allow it.
I thought of other schemes-- having a baby daddy (gay or straight) or a mutual marriage of convenience. After reading Lori Gottlieb's eye-opening article, "Marry Him!" in the Atlantic Monthly, I even considered-- very briefly-- the idea of marrying with divorce as an expected outcome. Fortunately (or unfortunately), I could not think of the right prospects for either of these scenarios. And none of these outcomes felt right to me anyway -- I realized that I didn't just want children, I wanted a real, cohesive, loving family, and it didn't feel right to me to ever go into a situation contemplating an eventual divorce. Divorce happens, yes. But it should not be the expectation.
I never subscribed to the conventional notion of marrying, settling down, and having kids with someone "good enough" just because it was time. While I dated steadily and had relationships throughout my 20s, I was also very interested in my career as well as other interests. In my late 20s, I realized a bit too late that I was supposed to be focused on finding Mr. Right for the last few years in the ever-narrowing pool of men. And then suddenly, like a game of musical chairs, the music stopped, and everyone seemed paired up.
I never subscribed to the conventional notion of marrying, settling down, and having kids with someone "good enough" just because it was time. While I dated steadily and had relationships throughout my 20s, I was also very interested in my career as well as other interests. In my late 20s, I realized a bit too late that I was supposed to be focused on finding Mr. Right for the last few years in the ever-narrowing pool of men. And then suddenly, like a game of musical chairs, the music stopped, and everyone seemed paired up.
But I was also convinced that I had not yet found my life partner. I wanted to be inspired and challenged by my husband-- you know, actually be deeply in love with the guy. I wanted to build a life with this person, find someone who would be there with me through thick and thin, someone to grow old with when the kids left the nest. I didn’t feel like it was my time yet because I had not found the right guy yet. I liked my life, I didn't feel alone, and I was completely OK with the idea of meeting my guy later in life, perhaps a guy on his second marriage or the bachelor who finally wanted to settle down at 50. But I felt caught in a cruel joke because while I was OK postponing the husband decision until the time was right, I have always dreamt of being a mother, and conventional wisdom dictated that I meet someone in what felt like a very narrow band of child-bearing years, even if he was not the right guy for me.
A few things finally tipped things for me. Earlier, I was willing to postpone certain reproductive decisions until I reached the Critical Age (by my arbitrary definition)-- and now, here I was at 33. As I examined my situation, I accepted that there was a good chance I was not going to meet my guy in the very near term future, and even if I did, the likelihood that I would have a kid before 36 and a second kid by 38 seemed highly unlikely. Secondly, my financial situation had not changed dramatically, and there was no way I was going to have a kid by myself any time soon. Thirdly, I began hearing more and more stories about women who couldn't get pregnant even though they were relatively young-- and they weren't much older than me. And lastly, I’d been keeping tabs on the technology surrounding oocyte cryopreservation, and there seemed to be more consistent success with a new freezing technique called vitrification. I had money invested in the stock market that I did not wanted to part with in my early 30s, but by 33, I almost felt (not quite) that cashing some of it out to invest in myself and my future ability to have children might be a worthwhile pursuit.
Coupled with this, I decided to make a few changes in my life. I applied for a new job in a different industry, targeting a company that is well known for being a relatively friendly environment for working mothers. They offer generous maternity leave, some flexibility in working from home, and great benefits. Somehow I actually got the job, and suddenly with greater income and earning potential, I felt that the universe was telling me to do it. I made this career change in part to have the option of being a single mother at some point in the future should I need it as a fallback, so there was no excuse not to take additional steps to help secure that dream.
So within weeks of starting my new job, I made an appointment at one of the two reputable clinics in New York City currently offering oocyte cryopreservation, and was on my way.
A few things finally tipped things for me. Earlier, I was willing to postpone certain reproductive decisions until I reached the Critical Age (by my arbitrary definition)-- and now, here I was at 33. As I examined my situation, I accepted that there was a good chance I was not going to meet my guy in the very near term future, and even if I did, the likelihood that I would have a kid before 36 and a second kid by 38 seemed highly unlikely. Secondly, my financial situation had not changed dramatically, and there was no way I was going to have a kid by myself any time soon. Thirdly, I began hearing more and more stories about women who couldn't get pregnant even though they were relatively young-- and they weren't much older than me. And lastly, I’d been keeping tabs on the technology surrounding oocyte cryopreservation, and there seemed to be more consistent success with a new freezing technique called vitrification. I had money invested in the stock market that I did not wanted to part with in my early 30s, but by 33, I almost felt (not quite) that cashing some of it out to invest in myself and my future ability to have children might be a worthwhile pursuit.
Coupled with this, I decided to make a few changes in my life. I applied for a new job in a different industry, targeting a company that is well known for being a relatively friendly environment for working mothers. They offer generous maternity leave, some flexibility in working from home, and great benefits. Somehow I actually got the job, and suddenly with greater income and earning potential, I felt that the universe was telling me to do it. I made this career change in part to have the option of being a single mother at some point in the future should I need it as a fallback, so there was no excuse not to take additional steps to help secure that dream.
So within weeks of starting my new job, I made an appointment at one of the two reputable clinics in New York City currently offering oocyte cryopreservation, and was on my way.
Hi Marin!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your honest story. There are a lot of information regarding IVF and also egg freezing, but there is a little information regarding emotional part of it. I am now in an IVF process and it also seems to me very unnatural and costly and no one (except you family) is interested in your success and future.