I took my friend home after her operation because she'd told very few people,not even her parents. When I went to an egg-freezing open evening at a clinic earlier this year,I watched other women arrive and head straight for the back,as if they wanted to be invisible. A cloak of silent embarrassment hung over the room.
Here was a group of professional women with smart handbags and nice hair behaving as if they were back on the sidelines of a school disco,racked with angst and a sense of failure that they'd"ended up"coming to a talk like this. Because,on one level,coming to a talk like this means acknowledging that you haven't had children the way everyone else seems to.
Sure,it comes with no guarantees of a baby,but – for me,at least – freezing is better than doing nothing,and better than desperately trying to meet someone in the next couple of years.
I've written about my own egg freezing,and am currently recording a podcast about it,because the idea that it is taboo has to be challenged. It should be challenged given that greater numbers of us are doing it and also because it's 2020,not 1950. Far better,surely,for a woman to take proactive steps with regards to her fertility than have a baby with someone she's not that enamoured by,or - dreaded phrase -"settle",because she doesn't feel like there's any other option.
Egg freezing has become a viable option. As leading fertility professor Geeta Nargund says,"It's the second wave of female emancipation after oral contraceptives in the 1960s."
If you're lucky enough to be able to afford it,it gives you more of a choice and more control over your life in a world where women still need to confront big questions – do I even want children? If I have a baby,what does it mean for my career? – long before men.
Sure,it comes with no guarantees of a baby,but – for me,at least – freezing is better than doing nothing,and better than desperately trying to meet someone in the next couple of years. It gives me breathing space.
And yet it's still stigmatised,in part because of the myths that surround it. Only the other day,a friend messaged,explaining that she was considering freezing her eggs but was concerned that it would cost her"$35,000,and the success rates don't seem that great?"
First,the cost:yes,it's expensive,although not quite as bad as my friend thought. By the time I'm through with my first round,it will have set me back around $8000. You need multiple trips to the clinic,scans,blood tests. Plus the vials and needles of expensive drugs. Nothing comes cheap.
Secondly,the success rates. Egg freezing is often referred to as an"insurance policy"which is misleading because,unless you've been mis-sold,an insurance policy should pay out in the end. If you're my age (now 35) and freeze between 10 and 20 eggs,you have between 70 and 90 per cent chance of a baby at a later stage. It might sound dicey,but the truth is,if you're a 35-year-old couple,you've only got a 30 per cent chance of conceiving naturally in any given month anyway.
Freeze the same number of eggs when you're 40 and your chances of a baby fall to between 30 and 50 per cent,because the quality has deteriorated. Early 30s would be even better than 35,but fewer women may be able to afford it then and,of course,they've still got plenty of time to meet someone. Basically,working out the"best"age to do it isn't simple.
I don't mean to sound like a snake-oil salesman. As a teenager,I assumed I'd be married by 30,with several children and a labrador. I'm grateful that life has taken me a different route,but deciding to freeze my eggs was a difficult decision,which I brooded over for a year. My hope is that these new figures give other women more confidence about freezing,and if greater numbers do it then perhaps the costs will come down,encouraging yet more women – and so on.
And there is reason to be confident. My parents,for instance,couldn't have been more encouraging. They've practically bought a highchair for when I go to stay with them,and I keep having to remind them it's just the eggs for now.
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Having started one cycle in early March,which had to be abandoned when lockdown kicked in,I've just begun the process again and am keen to speed through the injections and get on with my operation. Perhaps my shoulders will drop a bit after that. Like I said,freezing is no insurance policy,but it certainly feels pretty liberating to me.
— with The Telegraph,London
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