Freezing My Eggs Helped Me Accept My Ambivalence About Motherhood
I thought my friend was being neurotic last month when she texted me: “I’m going to move half my eggs to Reno, you should, too.”
She was thinking about moving some of her frozen eggs to another state after learning that an issue at an Ohio fertility clinic had ruined about 2,000 eggs and embryos.
I told her I thought I remembered hearing about a car accident involving a transport truck that had led to embryos going splat all over the freeway.
“I’m leaving it to chance,” I said.
Less than 12 hours later, I received an email from Pacific Fertility Clinic in San Francisco. It was the first one the clinic had sent me since I’d gone in for my egg-freezing procedure the year before. Subject: “Important Confidential Message.”
The email reported there had been a tank malfunction but said in bold letters that my tissue had been unaffected. Others, though, hadn’t been so lucky. The message was clear: I had not come up with an infallible insurance policy.
My friend quickly started organizing the transfer. But my resolve was the same. I would leave it to fate.
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