Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Why I'm Putting my Eggs on Ice

"hey!  take a picture of me freezing my eggs."
"Your first appointment will include a consultation with Dr. Ice* followed by a sonogram to assess your fertility.  Be sure to have all your forms filled out prior to the appointment.  Okay, Ms. Bunteen?"

"Got it.  A sonogram, huh?  I'll be sure to get a Brazilian beforehand.  Or a landing strip?  Hahaha."  I laughed nervously into the phone as my coworker gave me some major side-eye.

"We'll see you tomorrow," the receptionist replied, deadpanned.

I took a xanax deep breath and tried to focus on work as my imagination ran wild with visions of a monstrous OB-GYN bearing a strong resemblance to Ursula from the Little Mermaid shoving a giant crane-like object in between my legs as she assesses my insides only to conclude, "Alexandra, you shouldn't have wasted most of your youth going after unavailable, dickhead men - your follicles and eggs are about as non-existent as Mr. Clean's hair."

For the last 5 years year or so I've toyed with the idea of becoming gay freezing my eggs.  I got to a point where every time I logged onto facebook and saw a sonogram photo accompanied by the caption "baby Tomothan due mid-October!!! We're so excited!" my resolve to explore my options as a single woman (in her early 30s) who would like to be a mom one day became stronger.

Of course, I'm always happy for my married friends who end up getting divorced, making me feel less alone have babies, but there's also a part of me that thinks "When will this happen for me?  Will this happen for me?  I'm going to have to go on like 56 Bumble dates with guys who have flavor-savers shaped like yin-yangs before I find the right douche-turd to settle for."  I knew I needed to take the bull by the horns and do something to calm my ass down.

So I did my research and found that the egg-freezing process was quite terrifying intricate and included stabbing myself with hormone shots daily for a few weeks.  I thought about how the only shots I've ever enjoyed were of the Lemon Drop variety but knew that a 5 second pin-prick was a small price to pay for some much needed peace of mind.

So a couple weeks ago I made the definitive decision to move forward with icing my eggs.  After spending 20 minutes awhile carefully considering multiple places, I decided to make the first of many appointments at UCSF Center for Reproductive Health solely because they're located next to an In-N-Out.  I got to talk to a lady named Kathy prior to my visit today who answered all of my asinine questions like: "is this going involve beakers and test tubes!?"  I immediately called my mother to tell her the news.  "OH, why don't you just do it the old fashioned way!?" she quipped as I cringed and told her I had to run and re-lace my shoes.

After what has seemed like an eternity, my ex-boyfriend with erectile dysfunction disorder today (the day) came. As I walked into the UCSF Center for Reproductive Health (yeah, I'm gonna keep plugging them in hopes that they throw in some complimentary hormones) this morning I felt scared and excited all at once.  I looked around and noticed a couple of expectant moms with their husbands or trapped one-night-stands from Tinder boyfriends and felt a pang of anxiety in my stomach. There I was: alone, somewhat freaked out and wildly slightly disheveled from my dash to the appointment (I was 15 minutes late, as always).  I didn't have anyone there to pay for me hold my hand or sweep my jheri curl hair from my face and say "this is all going to turn out fine, one way or another - you'll be okay."

Then, a wave of perspiration calm swept over me as I looked up, smiled at the receptionist and checked in.  "I'm Alexandra and I'm here to put my eggs on ice.  Sorry I didn't bring my own cooler. HAHAHAHA."  I chastised myself internally for making such a terrible dad joke but began to feel empowered as I took a xanax seat and waited to be summoned by the kind nurse named Daphni with an i.  And so it all began...

I know I'll always look back on today as the day I took charge of my future - a future that one day, God willing, will include never having to work again kids.  It's the day I chose to ease my overanxious mind all on my own dime -- money that I've worked my ass off for.  I'll look back on today and think of how I was completely on my own; the only thing that sat next to me in that waiting room was my half-drunken peach flavored Snapple and a wrinkled consent form I'd filled out in my Uber on the way there.  I'll look back and think of how when the nurse opened the door and called my name, I knew that I had something more important than a husband, a boyfriend or a partner:  I had myself.

...and I'll think of how, in that moment, that was all I needed.









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