A decision with an expiry date

For almost two years, I thought about freezing my eggs. Not every day. But often enough that it quietly occupied a corner of my mind.

At 29, I had broken up with a guy I thought I'd end up marrying and starting a family with. Things didn't turn out that way, which is fine. When my sister, who is in a long-term and stable relationship, went on about how one should consider freezing your egg cells sooner rather than later if you want to properly plan a family, I freaked out. There's an expiry date.

My gynecologist then told me that if I wasn't in a long-term relationship at 33, we could talk about this option again. While this was supposed to comfort me, which it did for a year, it stressed me out the following year as my dating life didn't evolve in the direction I wanted it to.

Society likes to refer to the biological clock that starts ticking at 30. Technological advances may have allowed us to have children much later in life, yet it is still more risky and remains out of the norm.

Whatever society looks like, pregnancy will always ask more of a woman's body than a man's. That biological reality is part of what made the decision feel so significant to me. And it scares me.

I'm watching my friends and me as we've all accumulated relevant work experience throughout our 20s and how some of us are getting major promotions and more responsibility at work. Then comes the question: when would be a good time to get pregnant? I'm aware that I belong to a very privileged part of society that even gets to think and consider these things.

For starters, family planning is a thing — and many of us have our plans and timelines — but how do you know you'll actually get pregnant this month or next? Some couples I know decided they wouldn't mind having a baby, and it worked out on their first try. Others are struggling — managing projects and working in different countries. Others are visiting fertility clinics to help them have children. Others hadn't planned it at all and are adapting to the news.

It's not like ordinary career planning or scheduling when to take a holiday between projects. It's making a choice that automatically has a long-term effect on the course of your life. "But it's a natural thing, so you shouldn't overthink it," I've been told. Yes, it's natural to have babies, but there are immediate consequences on your day-to-day life, especially as a woman.

I remember realizing that while I was trying to figure out what to do about my lost timeline — one of the biggest uncertainties of my life: if, with whom, and when I would have children — someone else was weighing up whether women my age should even be promoted.

The only reasoning being that women in this age group might get pregnant and not come back full-time or might be preoccupied with sick children afterwards. Where are the fathers in that narrow view of family life in the 21st century? These thoughts aggravate me, because who are they to judge? There is no certainty that any of these scenarios will actually materialize.

I don't expect men to understand it completely. Here I am talking about my friends as couples. What about the single ones? How desperately do you want kids? The looks you get when you say you'd like kids, but you're still waiting to meet the right partner. "Ah, don't worry, you're still young." Easy for someone to say who is in a long-term relationship.

Will you meet someone? Do you meet them, decide you both want kids and have them immediately? Will it work? Or should you invest in a back-up solution and freeze your egg cells? It's not a guarantee, but a Plan B.

What to do? What to plan? What to prioritize?

Options and privilege sometimes make it even more stressful, because you're expected to make the right choice and may be judged for not using your options when you had them.

Whether your girlfriends are in a relationship and you're single, or vice versa, I was recently reminded that not only single women are stressed out. Even when you are in a relationship, the decision of when or if you want kids — and then actually making it work — brings a whole spectrum of stressors.

You're not alone on this journey, navigating this stress. Maybe we should talk about it more often with our close friends.

After lots of consideration, I came to the conclusion that I don't want that Plan B. For now, that decision has brought me peace.

I didn't even realize how much mental space it occupied until it disappeared.

xoxo, F