When I turned 30, nine years or so ago, my bucket list of achievements for the next 10 years was extensive and included starting a family. As a career focused person, these goals changed over the years with items either achieved or pushed aside because living life got in the way. A chance conversation with a colleague who was exploring the idea of egg freezing 15 months ago got me thinking about my personal future again and I decided that some research was in order.

It took me 6 months to feel brave enough to seriously look into egg freezing and to discuss options with my GP before taking the leap to meet with a fertility specialist. Even then, I still had reservations due to my workload, stress, coming off the pill, and the impact it may have on relationships with loved ones.

My 1st egg collection cycle was the hardest - a test and learn cycle that collided with life’s obstacles! Valentine’s Day (which my boyfriend and I normally celebrate), re-applying for my job due to a restructure at work, and a cycle that didn’t go to plan (I ovulated the morning of egg collection). These all played with my emotions, and I questioned whether egg freezing was the right thing for me.

Leading up to my 39th birthday I decided to complete two additional egg freezing cycles, both of which had successful outcomes. Each cycle brought with it new fears, reservations, and lots of conversations about weighing up the pros and cons. From a financial perspective, I could afford the additional cycles, and would it be worth it even if I didn't end up needing/using the frozen eggs. From a relationships perspective my boyfriend asked me if I was doing this because of him (he is older and is pretty sure he doesn’t want to have kids). I also reflected on the toll the injections took on my body and my emotions. Many tears later...I am extremely lucky to have the support of my close family and friends.

The journey of egg freezing is a very personal one, and one that can’t be entered into lightly. It takes a lot of strength, determination and patience, and for me, it has been a stepping stone to potentially achieving one of my long term goals.

Justine, 39 years young

I had 35 as the age that I would start looking into egg freezing if I hadn’t found a partner by then… but when 35 came around I wasn’t psychologically ready. I was still clinging on to hope that it would all work out the way it ‘should’ – first the career and financial stability, the husband, home, and then children. But at 35 I was still working on establishing my career. I was certainly not financially stable, and I did not have the partner to parent with. My friends who had kids would tell me that I would regret not freezing my eggs so I gave myself 2 years to decide… I promised myself I would make a decision about egg freezing before I reached 38. I knew there were declining success rates with age, but I was willing to give myself a little time more to come to terms with my decision.

People assume I have prioritised my career – I often get told I am too ‘picky’ or ambitious. Sure, I am ambitious, but if I had already met someone to have children with I would have. I also don’t come across many single men to be picky about…

So, in a state of panic I froze my eggs just before I turned 38. I thought I would have made my decision earlier but in those two years prior I kept fluctuating between ‘yes I should’ and ‘no I can’t’. In fact, the emotional toil of this decision was the most challenging for me. I constantly shifted my thinking between whether it would be better to invest the money into finding a partner (i.e. losing weight, improving my attractiveness, and using dating apps etc), or my long-standing desire to become a mother. Was it worth the costs? What else could I do with the money (e.g. house deposit, holiday)? How many cycles would I actually need or be comfortable having? How much would I be willing to spend? What’s the likelihood of using my eggs given I wasn’t willing to be a first-time mother after the age of 45 (this would only buy me an extra 7 years, and I wasn’t keen on being a single mother either). This thought process, led to a lot of negative thinking about my self-worth (what is wrong with me? Why can’t I find someone to love me? etc). I also questioned what would happen if it didn’t work at all? How would I adjust to knowing my biological clock already ticked over? Maybe I should just leave it to fate? Maybe I just need to accept that this is what happens when you get older – if you miss the boat, oh well…

The moment I decided to freeze my eggs occurred when a friend said to me that it seemed my core question was: ‘what is the value of having children?’ She would have spent any sum for her children (conceived through IVF). So, when I thought about it that way, I figured, yes, I would spend $10,000 to have a child (at that point I still wasn’t sure if I was willing to spend $20,000, but figured I could make that decision later).

The physical process of egg freezing wasn’t too bad for me. I had never injected myself before, but easy enough. I was living in a pretty new city, so there was the issue of having someone pick me up from hospital and stay with me (I didn’t have any relatives or super close friends yet). It also required a fair bit of time off work to make appointments, but this wasn’t a problem for me as I have flexible work hours.

My main stressors were emotional. I remember one morning getting ready to inject myself and thinking ‘how the hell did I end up in this situation’ - with a fair bit of self-blame tied in. I also became quite paranoid about ensuring I didn’t forget an injection so I would set multiple alarms. At each stage, I was always anxious about the number of eggs I would collect. The results from my initial blood test were positive so I was hopeful and thought if I could get 9-10 eggs I would be happy. Then, when I started taking the hormones and responded well to it, I shifted my goal to 20 eggs. When it finally came to egg collection, I ended up 13 and was disappointed. I had to remind myself my original number was 10 and I should be happy I reached that… My fertility counsellor warned me that I would have a number in my head at the start and to be mindful of the impact that would have.

I ended up only doing one cycle. Mainly because I couldn’t justify the cost of more. My younger sister said she will give me her eggs if I needed them and I’m also okay using an egg donor should the need arise. I also thought about the number of embryo transfer cycles I would be willing to have. Even if only half of my 13 eggs fertilized, I wouldn’t be willing to have more than 6 embryo transfers. I know I have less eggs in storage than recommended and there is a good chance that even if I used them they may not result in a baby, but that’s okay. Freezing my eggs was about doing what I can now to increase my chances later. I still hope that I won’t need to use them in the end.

The advice I would give myself if I was to do it all over again: 1) Ask for help – its amazing how many friends I have spoken to about this after the fact who tell me they would have picked me up from the hospital etc. 2) If you can, take 3 days off work to recover – ask your doctor to write a three-day medical certificate – I wasn’t ready to go back to work. 3) Be aware that this is going to be emotionally tough. It’s often the little things that you don’t anticipate. I hadn’t really thought about how sad I felt about having to acknowledge that I may never achieve my parenthood goals.

Now, 2 years on, the emotional burden is still heavy. I think about when I might use the eggs. I still want the traditional family, but I’ve shifted my thinking to being a single mother, which raises a whole lot of new questions: Can I afford it? Will I resent the financial sacrifices I will need to make? What happens to the child if something happens to me? What if my child has special needs? Children are hard work – do I have the energy to do this by myself? I will need to take time of work to raise the child, but then how do I pay my bills?

I still struggle hanging out with my friends' children – I often feel an unshakeable sadness the next day. I have also spent a lot of time considering if it’s even worth having children at all. It means no more last-minute plans or going out to a meal with friends (well, not without constant distractions anyway). My friends who have children all seem older than my friends without (which I blame on sleep deprivation). Not having a child means I can still go on holidays or buy that gorgeous (but pricey) pair of shoes without feeling guilty. When adolescence hits, they are disinterested in their parents, and then they grow up and leave home. That all said, after hanging out with a friend and his daughter recently, despite the tantrum she was throwing, when he asked me (I think as a joke) if I still wanted one – it made me cry.

Do I regret freezing my eggs? No. I’m glad I have my ‘babies’ in the freezer. Do I know what I am going to do next? Not at all. Sadly, it still feels like I am (yet again) bound by financial constraints – I just can’t see how to make being a single mother work for me (I think I’ve given up hope in ever finding a partner to parent with). If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would have a child (because I could also hire a nanny, a cleaner, a PA, and I wouldn’t need to worry about working and paying the bills). But I’m at a stage (I think) where I might be okay if I don’t have a child. I have a lot of childless single friends, so I don’t feel so alone in this.