This morning, as I lay in bed listening to George Michael, scanning the virtual newspaper for any worthy stories I might have missed the week previous, I came across an article which shook me to my core; “Why Women Should Be Freezing Their Eggs at 28”.
I felt my jaw drop open; not only because firstly, the only acceptable egg-based conversations which should occur before 9am should be whether you want them under hollandaise or with a side of smoked salmon – but secondly, and, forgive my inarticulacy here, but WHAT THE OEUF?!
At 28, I still consider myself a baby of the earth, the only freezing I do is of the cheesecakes I make, which I pre-portion for occasions where cheesecake is a necessity, like after a stressful day at the office, or a Wednesday. The only egg harvesting I was familiar with was that of the Easter or Ridley Scott variety – so why was this suddenly being sprung on us from the east of nowhere on an otherwise unsuspecting Sunday?
I’m still at the stage of life where eating custard straight from the can is acceptable; what’s with the sudden pressure to grow up and shake off those quirks in favour of investing in a pop up embryo fridge a la Jurassic Park? We all know how THAT ended.
According to the article, a gal’s eggs are more valuable between the ages of 28 and 30 (the Faberge’s of the fertility world if you will), in comparison to those over the age of 32, which we’re left to imagine are the same qual as the cartons of egg-white-only mix which we can only hope was once in close proximity to a real chicken.
BUT DON’T WORRY, for a cost as little as £5,000 a pop, you can undergo an invasive process to extract the eggs for use at a later date – a little like your ASOS saved items tab. The procedure can be painful, and can take up to three times to successfully reserve the eggs, but if you do have a spare £15,000 for this, it’s heavily encouraged by professionals.
But what if you don’t know whether, in your late twenties /early thirties you’d rather be pouring a healthy dosage of rum over ice rather than your ovaries? What if, this is a conversation we weren’t quite prepared for so early in the game, when we’re still trying to figure out if that cute guy is checking us out or whether he’s wondering how we got humous in our hair? What if we’d rather just see how things go, is that okay too? Or are we being too optimistic to think this will be as easy as we think it will when we’re finally ready?
I’m going to go out on a womb here and say we’re probably going to come out okay in this scenario. Maybe it’s foolish to brandish this topic a fad, or assume its a result of health conscious fanatics making an issue out of nothing; I can absolutely see why it may be of concern to some, and is a helpful insight to those who may foresee complications in this area, but I don’t agree with the potential fear mongering it can harbour in the ones to which having a baby is lower on our agenda than catching up on the latest Line of Duty episode.
And so I don’t think it’s something we should be forced to ponder if it hadn’t yet entered our universe previously. Life already has a habit of taking the whole romance and excitement out of your day-to-day, so why give it a helping hand?
So, if like me you face daily inner turmoils over whether you should eat Crunchy Nut or Frosted Wheat for breakfast, do not bestow upon yourself the additional pressure of how you want your eggs.
Although, if we’re talking conventionally, to which I would recommend poached, every time.