I've been contemplating on what to write because if there had ever been a single moment where I felt the shift between "girlhood" and "womanhood," it would be the moment I decided to pursue egg freezing. It's a humbling process and one that forces you to confront your bodily limitations. It’s also been enormously empowering. When so many decisions in life feel out of my control, preserving this aspect gives me agency and peace of mind about the future. But what nobody tells you is that there's no mourning period between girlhood and womanhood. Overnight, all those early adulthood anxieties surrounding unplanned pregnancies are replaced by a new kind of fear: whether you're able to conceive at all.
The most challenging part of the experience is confronting yourself: every life decision is magnified, exposing its imprint on the body. I thought about the decade I spent on a plane and how, at times, I missed periods from a prolonged travel schedule that dysregulated my circadian rhythm. I thought about the countless miles I’ve logged traveling by air, exposed to radiation. I think about the cost of how pursuing unconventional career goals can often come at the expense of motherhood. Studies show that prolonged periods of stress (both physical and emotional) significantly reduce fertility. I think about some of the misaligned partnerships I've had over the last few years, how perhaps I haven't been totally honest with myself and my past partners about how deeply I desired motherhood, worried that any mention of this would "kill the vibe." It turns out that situationships are not only bad for your mental health, but their emotional toll is bad for your fertility, too.
I decided to freeze my eggs when, at age 31, I decided to pivot careers. This year, I'm starting to actualize dream projects that are taking my career into a new direction. I've never felt more creative and skillful in work. But while finally aligning with my life's purpose brings me the greatest feeling of personal fulfillment, it comes with hesitation, wondering what the expense of pursuing this new path will take. How many years can I pour myself into this path? The desire for a thriving career and the looming pressure of a narrowing fertility window have never seemed more apparent. The pressure to synchronize career ambitions with the rhythm of this invisible clock becomes a symphony of stress, especially for women who dare to dream beyond traditional timelines.
But the challenges don't end with personal timelines; they extend into the professional sphere, too. The workplace, with its outdated structures and often inadequate support systems, becomes a battleground for women attempting to balance career ambitions and reproductive choices. It's a system that demands unwavering dedication to the job while offering minimal flexibility for life's inevitable curveballs.
The absence of policies like paid parental leave and flexible work arrangements exacerbates the obstacles faced by women navigating the intersection of career and fertility. And then there are the societal expectations, the subtle yet persistent nudges towards perfection – the superwoman who effortlessly excels in her career while seamlessly managing the demands of motherhood. The standards placed on women to be high-achieving professionals and nurturing caregivers create a tightrope many often find themselves walking with trepidation. We must advocate for a more inclusive and flexible career approach that recognizes the multifaceted nature of women's lives.
There's also the economics of egg freezing that cannot be ignored – a hefty price tag requiring a dedicated amount of time and resources to pursue. Egg freezing is currently a luxury service, a privilege reserved for those with the financial means and time to invest in their reproductive future. In the US alone, the average spend starts at $10,000 and goes upwards to $30,000. It becomes abundantly clear that there needs to be a more holistic, intersectional approach to female fertility access. We need a healthcare system that emphasizes greater empathy and understanding that centers women's agency over their reproductive choices.
My biggest takeaway from this experience is that fertility is fragile. It requires the conscious care and stillness that modern life doesn't endorse enough. Still, a medley of hope, uncertainty, and empowerment accompanies the decision to freeze one's eggs. I'm grateful the process exists for those of us who need more time to plan. I'm not the first to say this, and I certainly won't be the last, but as Camille Charriere succinctly put it, We Need To Be Having More Honest Conversations About Fertility – And Not Just With Our Girlfriends.