Preserving Choice

I didn’t envision myself becoming a first-time mom at nearly 40. I always imagined having children in my 30s because my mom had me when she was 30. Throughout my life, people warned me about not waiting too long to have kids. I decided that 35 was the cutoff — that was the age when I’d officially be ‘too old.’ I know I’m not the only woman who picked an arbitrary number, set a timer, and nervously watched it tick down to our supposed expiration.

You can imagine how difficult it was for me to start dating again at 36 — well past what society deems a woman’s prime. I hated the idea of my clock ticking. I mean, everyone’s clock is ticking — we have no idea how long we’ll live or when our best days will be behind us. But I didn’t want to be that woman — the one constantly talking about her biological clock, feeling pressured to rush things. It felt like the odds were stacked against me, and I began to wonder if motherhood was even in the cards for me

I hated the idea that as women age, they’re often seen as less desirable, while men are labeled ‘silver foxes,’ benefiting from increased wealth and perceived stability. As much as I despised this double standard, it seeped into my own belief system. I’d joke, ‘I’m no spring chicken,’ using humor to mask my discomfort. Deep down, I felt like I was subconsciously devaluing myself — as if my worth was tied solely to my ability to bear healthy children. But I knew I was so much more than my biological age or my capacity to procreate — my self-worth couldn’t be reduced to that.

Friends had nudged me to consider freezing my eggs years ago, but even thinking about it felt like admitting defeat in finding a partner. It seemed desperate and depressing. Reflecting on it now, I can see how disconnected that belief was from reality, but at the time, the discomfort it stirred caused me to push the idea away. I made it a problem for my future self to deal with.

Recognizing that this was a poor strategy, I looked for ways to minimize that dissonance. I adjusted my values —telling myself, ‘It’s not essential for me to have biological children,’ and even, ‘I don’t really like kids that much — I prefer dogs.’ Both statements felt true at the time, but deep down, I knew I was afraid. Afraid that if I didn’t embrace these beliefs, I’d be setting myself up for major disappointment. Letting defense mechanisms rewrite our truths is a dangerous game. Clarity empowers us to strategize and make the best decisions based on what we know. Putting plans in place to pursue a dream doesn’t expose our heart to more risk — suppressing our desires and failing to take action is the greater risk because it will surely dim our light.

Doing inner work allowed me to reconnect with myself, rather than letting external forces dictate my life choices. For the first time, I realized that the desire to be a mom wasn’t driven by societal expectations but was something I genuinely wanted for myself. In that moment, I regretted not freezing my eggs sooner and finally took action a month before turning 37. I came to understand that I didn’t need to be a definite ‘yes’ to having children, but I was an absolute ‘yes’ to preserving the option.

Circumstances change, and they can greatly influence our beliefs and desires around family. In my 20s and early 30s, I wasn’t sure I wanted children. I was focused on enjoying life, building my career, and saw kids as a drain on resources. What I didn’t realize at the time was that my desire to have children was also dependent on finding a partner to raise them with. If I had known how much that factor could shift my perspective later on, I wouldn’t have seen freezing my eggs as giving up, but as doubling down on my future.

I feel fortunate for how things have turned out — I became a mom, and still have the option to use my eggs in the future. This experience has reinforced the importance of having clarity around our deepest desires and the courage to take action. Taking action to give yourself the best odds at achieving what is meaningful is what makes the most strategic sense. Negotiating yourself down from what you really want, just to avoid disappointment, doesn’t serve your highest Self. Living to avoid disappointment feels like playing small. I’d much rather play big and embrace the chance at a richer, more meaningful life.