By Salma Manzur, as told to Modernae Editors
Two years ago, when I was 34, I went to my friend’s daughter’s birthday party. My friend and her girlfriends are a tight group of women, all in their early to mid-40s, all married, though a couple of them don’t have kids. They literally cornered me and said, “You need to freeze your eggs. And you need to do it now.”
At first, I thought they were just being silly. But these women know and love me, and they know I’m maternal and would likely regret not having a child. I know many of them had trouble conceiving, and several froze their eggs as well, so the possibility of me being in their shoes sunk in. They were watching out for me, and I’m grateful for that.
Still, I put it on the back shelf and thought, maybe I’ll do it when I’m 35.
“I have to remind myself that my eggs are in storage. Sometimes I think, 'well, those are 12 eggs I’m never going to use.'”
Then 35 came along, and I was doing some financial planning, thinking about how much I was going to put in savings and such. I figured I’d just call a doctor and ask what it takes to start the process of freezing your eggs. They told me the first step is a simple blood test to check hormone levels, so I did it. I’m Hispanic and Arab, so I thought I’d be Fertile Myrtle. But they told me that normal levels are 1.0, and I was at .93.
When I heard my results, I hung up the phone and took a few breaths. I thought I’d be off the charts. I went to talk to my parents, who think I am perfect, so they didn’t understand why I would need to do this. They think it’s all going to happen for me. It took them saying, “That’s ridiculous—you’re going to be fine,” for me to realize that it may not be fine. Then I went to talk to my brother and sister-in-law.
They said, “It’s insurance. Do it.”
“You get sonograms twice a week to check how many eggs there are. The first time, I thought, 'I’ve seen this picture before, but usually there is a baby in it. Now it’s just a dark hole.'”
After some more thought, I decided to do it. One round costs $11,000—that hurt. I knew I could do so many other things with that money, but I also knew I could just spend it on clothes and nails and hair. Plus, a friend pointed out that I could take out a loan for the procedure. Even though I had that money in savings, for mental peace I got a loan. While you can’t get time back, you can take your time paying off a loan.
Freezing your eggs is a month-long process. For three weeks, I had to give myself a shot twice a day. And then the fourth week, I had to give myself three shots a day. The shots help you produce more eggs, and then they remove them from your uterus. It was weird—you get sonograms twice a week to check how many eggs there are. The first time, I thought, I’ve seen this picture before, but usually there is a baby in it. Now it’s just a dark hole.
It was emotional, because I was thinking, I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be married and have two kids by now. But I was also proud of myself because I am so lucky I had the money to be able to do this. My doctor kept saying it was a great thing I was doing. Though he also kept saying it is so much better to freeze an embryo than an egg. I was like, “You understand I’m here because I don’t have the sperm, right? Stop telling me that—I get it.”
The whole process was pretty painless. Harvesting the eggs just felt like a normal exam at a gynecologist. Even the shots, which I gave myself in the stomach each morning and each night, weren’t that bad. It was actually empowering. When I found out that I had to give myself shots, I called two nurse friends and asked if I could come over and have them do it for me. But they told me I would do it—and I did.
“Harvesting the eggs just felt like a normal exam at a gynecologist. Even the shots, which I gave myself in the stomach each morning and each night, weren’t that bad. It was actually empowering.”
The scary thing is there are no guarantees. There was no guarantee of how many eggs I’d get or how many would be viable enough to freeze. It’s an $11,000 risk.
During the month I was doing the shots, I had to go back to the clinic every three days for blood work and a sonogram. The technician would point out little shadows and say, “There’s an egg; there’s an egg; that one’s not viable—it’s not growing.” As time went by, I could see the eggs getting bigger.
I was very lucky: I got 12 viable eggs. But lots of women have to keep doing it month after month, and that’s expensive, and they gain weight and get really emotional from all the hormones. While I couldn’t exercise beyond going on walks during those weeks, I felt pretty good.
Now it’s a year later, and my feelings are still all over the map. I have to remind myself that my eggs are in storage. Sometimes I think, well, those are 12 eggs I’m never going to use. Sometimes it’s a positive thing, like I won’t need to use them because I’m going to meet someone tomorrow. And sometimes it’s a negative feeling, because today—right now—I don’t want kids by myself. But, at age 42, I might.
Still, I recommend that women who are thinking about it do it, because at the end of the day, I have better odds of having children later since I have 12 of my 36-year-old eggs frozen. And even if I don’t ever use them, they give me peace of mind now.
Manzur is a successful real estate agent in Austin, Texas. She’s a homeowner, avid runner, doting aunt and dog mom.
