So I’m in a Lyft back to the office after having my first meeting with my fertility doctor, who I shall call Dr. Freeze from here on out, about this whole egg-freezing business. Half the time I felt like she was speaking another language — SO MANY new acronyms and terms and drug names to familiarize myself with now. I have to keep enough acronyms straight at work… do I really need to have more in my life?
I guess I didn’t fully realize how extensive the process is … or how long it takes just for one cycle, which might only result in a few viable eggs when it’s all said and done. Yet in the waiting room beforehand and then later when I was checking out I witnessed 5 men who were clearly either sperm donors, partners or husbands being led back to “special” rooms where they could each make their, uh, contribution in about 5 minutes flat.
Why oh why can’t I just fantasize about the hot priest from Fleabag and pop out some eggs??? Why do self-injections with two-inch needles have to be involved? Gah.
Anyway, the good news is that I left feeling excited and hopeful — and confident that this is the right thing for me to do and the right time for me to do it. When I was waiting for my ride I saw a flustered woman in the parking lot struggling to get her flailing and screaming kid in a car seat while also juggling the keys, a sippy cup and various other kiddie paraphernalia. But it didn’t scare me. I know if I do end up having to go this route alone that it’s not going to be easy, but I’m not willing to give up on the vision I’ve always had for my future, which includes both a career and at least one child.
Now I just gotta figure out how in the hell I’m going to set up all of these time-sensitive appointments around my work schedule — board meetings don’t have a “stop for Sarah’s biological clock” agenda item — and if I’m going to tell my sister (or anyone else, for that matter) about what I’m up to…
Full Ratchet 