The truth about the emotions behind Egg Freezing

I laid in the post-op bed alone and drowsy after the first surgery in my life.
“8 eggs. 50% chance of a live birth. We recommend you freeze another round of eggs.“ the Dr. told me as soon as I opened my eyes.
Panic washed over me.
I wanted to say: Fuck you. No.
Instead I blinked away the tears in my eyelids and nodded my head.
This was just five months before my first date with my husband in 2019.

I’d been coming home from work each day to inject myself with hormones for weeks.
My 7pm dinners consisted of merlot and chocolate ice cream, and my 7am meetings were fueled by nitro cold brew.
Somehow despite being under nourished it felt like I had an entire burrito in my belly.

I felt on edge and under resourced.
The brain fog created uncertainty at work, mixing the medicine, and all areas of life.
I felt incompetent.
I felt under qualified.
I felt afraid.

Just a month before my injections began, I’d transitioned out of a polyamorous relationship with a woman who felt like she’d been my partner in many lifetimes.
My spirit soared when I was with her.
It was expansive and passionate.
Our time together felt like living poetry.
We’d dreamed of raising kids together, building a life together, and who might be a possible father.
I’d explored the idea of my other partner in San Diego being a baby daddy and co-parent.
I’d dreamed of what life could be like in a triad.
Yet there was zero to no chemistry between them.
I’d imagined so many realities, none of which they wanted.

And what I couldn’t see at the time was I was in a codependent relationship with her, and my relationship with him was void of commitment or any truly vulnerable acts.
I was kidding myself that any of these dreams could be a healthy path for me.

It became clear to me that I needed to end both relationships, and let go of the future I’d dreamed of.
I went into the egg freezing process feeling hopeless and heartbroken.

My inner critic was saying: I’m single and I have zero romantic prospects. I’m fucked.

The toxic ex-partner I’d gone back to again and again, was the only person I felt I could ask to pick me up on surgery day.
As I asked him, I knowingly stepping back into the cycle of anger and emotional abuse.

The day after the surgery I noticed my downward emotional spiral.
My inner world was drowning in thoughts like “what’s the point of living?” and “why am I even here?”
The depression consumed me.
I was too under resourced to feel anything.
I was stuck.

My inner critic shamed me for having “champagne problems.”
I was fortunate enough to even freeze my eggs, who am I to complain and feel sorry for myself when so many women don’t have the privilege I am living in?

So I powered through on an island of my own loneliness.
My family had no idea what I was really going through.
My friends knew only the logistics.
My work was my distraction, and I hustled through my deliverables over the coming weeks.

Eventually my boss, Rena, checked in on me and suggested I take a day off. She’d also gone through the egg freezing process too, and her care for me shifted something important.

My day off gave me space for healing session with Alex Payton. I learned that the grief I felt about “being separated from my babies“ was the hormones giving me a flavor of postpartum depression.
The session created clarity that the depression was just another cycle of nature.
Then emotions started to move.

Two weeks later I scheduled an appointment with V'Anne Singleton, LMFT & Psychotherapist.
My life really started to turn around.
The more I welcomed the emotions, the more the depression lifted.

The series of events that would follow were a domino effect bringing me directly to the life partnership I desired.
The more I felt my emotions the more I stepped into my power.

What I didn’t realize at the time is that I really needed to lean on people I trusted.

I needed to be held while I cried.

I needed community.

This last month of living with three friends while they went through their egg freezing process unearthed my own lingering pain and helped me process it, so I could show up for them in theirs.

It felt like tribal sisterhood. And it was life changing.

More on that to come.