I froze my eggs at 30 — not because I was in a panic about my biological clock, but because I wanted options. I wasn't in a relationship, wasn't sure I wanted kids, and didn't want that decision to be made for me by biology while I was still figuring things out. The consultation was easy. Everything after that was more intense than anyone warned me about.
Two weeks of daily hormone injections. Bloating that made me look five months pregnant. Mood swings that rivaled my worst PMS. Monitoring appointments every other day where they count your follicles like you're a science experiment. Then the retrieval itself — a brief procedure under sedation that I barely remember. The recovery was one day of cramping and two days of being tired. And then it was done. Eggs frozen. Options preserved.
The cost was significant — around $12,000 including medication. Insurance covered none of it. But the peace of mind of knowing I had time to make the right decision about kids, instead of a pressured one, was worth every dollar and every injection. If you're 30 and uncertain, it's worth at least having the conversation with a fertility clinic.
One honest essay about life at 30, delivered weekly.
I thought I'd feel ready. I thought I'd feel maternal. Mostly I felt terrified and hungry.
The most radical thing a woman can do at 30 is decide not to be a mother and refuse to justify it.
The fertility conversation is either fear-mongering or toxic positivity. Here's the honest middle ground.