Freezing Fertility — Single & Starting a Family after Forty

By Michell Stanley

Women who find themselves approaching 40 with no plan or partner for having a family may feel the reality of fertility slapping them in the face. In fact, new research has shown that women who don’t see themselves having children in their 20s are 4 times less likely to have them by the age of 40.

For the women who find themselves on the fence about whether they want to have children, this statistic can feel quite chilling. Could it really be this black-and-white? Do women either definitively know that they want to have children from a very young age and start preparing to do so, or inherently know that they don’t want them at all?

If you are a woman who is approaching the end of your fertility window and knows (without a doubt) you want to have your own biological children, this article may not be for you. If you wholeheartedly know you are one of these women, I strongly encourage you to talk to your doctor immediately about your family goals, even if you are not in a relationship. Consultations are normally very affordable and a portion is covered by your insurance. I hope that you will find all the happiness and joy that a child inevitably brings.

There is another special group of women, one of which I belonged to. It’s a group of women that assumes they want to have children, but are likely just ambivalent.

Here’s some signs that you are ambivalent:

• You would rather not have a baby at all than have a child with a deformity or disability.
• You don’t want to have a baby without a partner.
• You have a grass is greener perspective for those things that you don’t have.

For those of you that are trying to figure this out — it’s really starts with coming to peace with your life decisions, including the ones that brought you here. It’s important to make sure to talk to honestly and openly with people who have experienced the life that you find yourself envious of to truly understand if it’s what you want.

Personally, I decided that I was going to freeze my eggs if I was still single at the age of 38. When that time came, even though I had just started a relationship with a man who wanted to settle down with me, I decided not to freeze my eggs. This wasn’t because I thought this man was “The One.” Instead I felt that him coming into my life was a sign that I was on the right path, and I didn’t need to interfere with my journey.

I must say that I sit now one month before my 40th birthday, and the journey my life has taken looks nothing like what I had imagined. However, I have never felt more confident that I made the right decision not to freeze my eggs.

Why? Because allowing myself to entertain the possibility that I didn’t want to actually have my own children opened up numerous possibilities for a delicious and exciting life that likely would have been impossible if I had tried to push myself down a path of motherhood.

The reality of raising a child isn’t always pretty. It’s post-partum mood-swings, stepping away from a career and business, changing diapers, and an ever-shrinking sex life. For me, it would’ve felt like following in another’s foot-steps because I would feel like a failure if I didn’t. If I hadn’t trusted my gut, I wouldn’t be the fulfilled person that I am now.

Since I have been living with the possibility that I don’t want to have children, I’ve realized that perhaps I never actually wanted them. I just wanted to want them. This explains the choices that I have made such as saying: “I do want to have children, but only with the right partner.” These are the same ‘right partners’ who in 20 years of dating never came to fruition. Even when I dated men that wanted to have children with me, I found them unfit as long-term partners. The lovers that I wanted to make babies were often inherent commitment-phobic trophy stands. It could’ve been just bad luck that I never found the right match. Or it could’ve actually been a covert attempt to prevent myself from having to actually decide that I, in fact, don’t want to have a baby.

Which truth be told — I totally understand. I have been told, taught and nurtured to believe that not only that I want children, but that I would be such “a great mother,” and that motherhood is natural to me. Over the course of my life, I have been made to feel that I would be extremely unhappy, lonely and deprived if I didn’t have my own children.

As much as this is a possible reality, fear is never a good reason to have children. When I faced the truth, I realized that most of the reasons I wanted to have children are really quite selfish and egotistical such as:

• I wanted to have someone that has to love me.
• I wanted to create security in a relationship.
• I felt intense Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) with motherhood.
• I wanted to buy cute maternity clothes.
• I wanted to have longer hair and healthier skin and nails for a short period of time.
• I would have achieved the crowning accomplishment of being a woman.
• I would have created a mini-me
• I would’ve evaded the fear that I will die alone with no one who is obligated to take care of me

In the past when I entertained this list I could sometimes persuade myself to think about getting pregnant, hoping it would turn out fine. However, then I would ask myself:

“Do I want to have an okay life or do I want to have the life I love right now?”

The life I love right now is having the freedom to live the life I want for myself.

I still want a love… a soul-satisfying love. A love that I have not found yet, but that I am willing to hold out for. In the meantime, I continue to revolve myself and my life around love and the places that it appears for me. My love life has never been so abundant. I am finding myself in relationships that have more attraction, chemistry, compatibility than ever before.

In addition, as I get older the men that I date have children. This means I get the opportunity to be around kids all the time. I’ve come to find that — in stark contrast to how I feel around babies — I actually really enjoy being around kids and teenagers. When I’m around babies, my first response is the desire to have a drink. A fact that’s especially concerning since I usually don’t drink much in the first place.

Cheryl Strayed, author of Wild and a former Dear Sugar columnist, once responded to a reader that was nearing the end of her peak fertility years. The reader was reluctant to give up the independent life they had as a couple without children, but was also afraid they would regret the decision later if they chose not to.

Strayed framed the question of whether or not you would regret it later to be the central conflict. She suggested an exercise that entails making a list of the losses that you would have under each decision. My recommendation is to add a column of gains as well.

I am writing this article not to judge or condemn people who want to have their own babies. In fact, I admire and respect those who make this choice tremendously. I also admire and respect the courage to honor those that choose not to. Life is full of choices. Acknowledging that I don’t want to have my own children isn’t just a choice that I made in my late 30s, it has likely been a choice I’ve been making all of my life but have been too afraid to acknowledge.

Now that I embrace my decision to not have biological children, I am in an empowered position going into my 40th year of life. If I hadn’t been able to accept this part of myself, I would feel angry at myself and the world for denying me the chance to have my own family. My new perspective allows me to create the family that I truly desire for myself.

What does that look like? The family I desire for myself has many kids and teenagers, but not babies. We also have 2 dogs. We have a home with a yard. We go on vacations together. My relationship with these kids is like an older sister — a friend and caring adult. I love these children authentically without infringing who they want to become. My love for these children is at it always should be — free. Love is given freely and demands nothing in return. This type of love is sufficient to itself. This is the type of love that I want to teach everyone to experience. With this kind of love, the magnificent is possible.

So, on the cusp of my 40th birthday, I am open to being pregnant with my own kind of love! I hope to receive whatever is to be birthed from this process to come forth easily, and to support the unfolding of my life just as it was meant to be.