6 Realistic Expectations That Will Improve Your Egg Freezing Experience
If you’re considering it, here’s what you need to know
I was 30 years old when I first thought about freezing my eggs. Newly divorced and not interested in dating (I’m still not), I was looking for an option to buy myself time to find a partner before my biological clock called it quits.
With each passing birthday and the incessant questioning from friends and family about my dating life, I couldn’t help feeling like my time was running out.
Going into my first consultation with the fertility specialist, I thought I knew what to expect — I had done the research (read: I Googled). But with each appointment, a new piece of information had me questioning whether I was strong and brave enough to go through with freezing my eggs and if it was still the right choice.
It’s expensive
When I learned the price of egg freezing, my heart sank. I worried that by the time I could save enough money, it would be too late and I would no longer qualify for egg freezing because of my age — the clinic I go to only accepts patients up to 37 years old for egg freezing.
In Canada, an egg retrieval procedure alone will set you back around $10,000 per cycle, in addition to a consultation fee (~$200), medications (~$3,000–$5,000), the annual storage fee (~$500/year), and the thawing process when you’re ready to use the eggs (~$8,000).
Since egg freezing is an elective procedure, it’s not covered under provincial and territorial health insurance or private insurance plans, but some private insurance plans will cover a percentage of the medication costs.
Depending on your age, family size goals, the health of your eggs and other factors, additional cycles may be recommended, doubling or even tripling the cost.
Yikes. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have that kind of money lying around.
When I couldn’t shake the thought that I still wanted to freeze my eggs, despite the cost, I called my financial advisor to help me explore my options and come up with a plan to finance the journey.
It’s an invasive and intense process
To determine whether I was a candidate for egg freezing, I underwent a series of blood tests and vaginal ultrasound scans to determine my ovarian reserve (egg count), test for infectious diseases, and assess my overall reproductive health.
If you’ve never had a vaginal ultrasound, a transducer (a wand-like device) is inserted into the vagina. It feels similar to the part of a pap smear where the speculum is inserted. Other than some slight pressure as the sonographer moved the wand in different directions to capture images from various angles, the scan was tolerable and not painful.
A few weeks after all my tests and scans were completed, a follow-up appointment with the doctor informed me that my ovarian reserve was good, my reproductive organs were in good shape to proceed, and that she was hopeful my treatment cycle might yield 15–20 eggs to freeze — a number she says has a good chance of resulting in a future pregnancy.
My procedure is now scheduled for the new year. What awaits me is a treatment cycle that involves 2 weeks of self-administered hormone injections with frequent vaginal ultrasounds and blood tests over the same 2-week period to monitor the growth and maturation of the eggs.
The hormone injections make me incredibly nervous. Needles don’t generally scare me, but the thought of injecting myself with hormones every day makes me a little queasy. In the meantime, I’m giving myself pep talks so that when the time comes, I can do it myself. But just in case, I have a friend on standby.
More than fear of the injections though, I worry that I’ll get cold feet and not be able to finish the treatment cycle.
If I can muster up the courage to make it through the injections, the last step is the retrieval, which involves another vaginal ultrasound, but this time, there’s a needle on the end that’s inserted through the vaginal wall and into the ovary to extract the mature eggs.
As I write this, I can feel my body tense slightly at the thought of it, but I feel some relief knowing that the procedure is done under sedation, albeit conscious sedation, and takes less than 30 minutes, with a 1-hour in-office recovery period.
Is it weird that a part of me is excited to watch the retrieval happen on the monitor?
It’s an emotionally exhausting process
From the moment I learned about egg freezing, a day hasn’t gone by where it isn’t on my mind.
Between the research, financing, appointments, therapy, processing my own emotions, waiting for the results, answering questions from loved ones, going through the process alone, the anticipation of my upcoming procedure, anxiety about the risks, and worries about whether it’ll be successful, this process has been mentally and emotionally exhausting.
As supportive as my friends and family have been, there are times where they aren’t able to support me in the way that I need. In those times, it’s been incredibly helpful and comforting to talk to people who are also freezing their eggs or going through IVF, and a psychologist that specializes in fertility-related issues.
With the decision to freeze my eggs behind me, my mind is already racing to think about what will happen after my eggs have been frozen.
Will I tell my future partner(s) about the eggs? If so, how soon?
How long will I keep them frozen?
If I hit a certain age and still haven’t found a partner, will I use the eggs with donor sperm?
What will I do with the eggs if I no longer need or want them?
A part of me thinks that these eggs will always take up space in my mind.
Maybe with each passing day, the space will grow smaller.
And if it ever completely slips my mind, there’s always the storage fee invoice to remind me every year.
It’s not a guarantee you’ll have a baby
One egg ≠ one baby.
After all the time, money, emotional turmoil and physical pain you put yourself through to freeze your eggs, you’d think there’d be some kind of guarantee.
Of all the eggs retrieved and frozen, not all the eggs will survive the thawing process. Of those that do, not all will fertilize. Of those fertilized, not all will develop into viable embryos ready for implantation into the uterus. What’s more, not all implantations will result in pregnancy, and not all pregnancies will result in a live birth.
Unfortunately, the data on live births from frozen eggs is limited. Of all the women who have ever frozen their eggs, most haven’t thawed them to try and conceive yet.
You may never use your frozen eggs
Most women who freeze their eggs will never use them — another reason the data on success rates with frozen eggs is limited.
Whether you ultimately conceive naturally, choose adoption, decide to be child-free, choose not to continue paying the storage fees, or any other reason, there’s a chance you’ll never use your frozen eggs.
For some, this might be a source of comfort to know that the eggs are there but may not be needed, but for others, it can be a source of stress, anxiety or regret considering everything you and your body go through to freeze your eggs.
Once I accepted that freezing my eggs was about giving my future self options, it became easier to accept that I may never use them. And if I ultimately don’t use them, I’m fairly confident I won’t see this process as having been a “waste”.
Not everyone will understand your decision
Throughout my egg-freezing journey, I’ve been candid and open with my friends and family about my choice.
I’m fortunate to have supportive people in my life, but not everyone I’ve shared my journey with understands my decision to freeze my eggs.
Have you considered adoption?
Don’t give up on yourself! You still have time. Why don’t you focus on dating?
It’s not natural.
If it happens it happens. Why force it?
Comments like these leave me second-guessing my decision and questioning whether I’m making a selfish decision.
I’ve had to remind myself that I don’t need someone else’s permission or approval to make this choice for myself and that the positive support I’ve received far outweighs the judgments.
It’s taken some time in therapy for me to come to terms with the uncertainty that comes with freezing my eggs, but what has ultimately helped me move forward is reminding myself that I went into this process to give my future self options.
I learned in therapy that my definition of family doesn’t necessarily mean a partner and biological child that I birth myself, and that I’m open to other ways of building my future family.
Freezing my eggs is just one way I’m broadening my options.
