My birthday is in two weeks, and I’ll be turning 31 this year. As a woman in my early thirties now, every year that I blow out the candles, it seems like the ticking of my biological clock grows louder. To the point where even strangers can hear it – they must have dog hearing, I swear.
Since I’ve also been married for a few years, this apparently further exacerbates the tick-tick rhythm that now accompanies me wherever I go. Who knew? No one tells you how alarmed and worried complete strangers will be about the livelihood of your eggs once you turn 30+. Don’t even think about talking about not having children – this will cause people’s heads to almost explode.
Now, I never mind if my friends and family ask me about having kids. I am absolutely fine talking about family planning with those that know me and care about me. Where I draw the line is when people that I don’t know at all feel the need to give me their two cents. Frankly, I don’t feel that I owe everyone an explanation of what I’m going to do or not do with my eggs.
Last year, I had a plumber at my house. Not one that I had hired before or still use. He was fixing something under the kitchen sink and we were making small talk. I mentioned that I had just celebrated my 30th birthday, had a party, yada yada yada. This man took this as an opportunity to say, “You’re 30? And no kids?” To which I replied, “Nope, just married with two cats.” Aghast, he responded, “Well you better get on it because your eggs are getting old.” Now this experience is so normalized for me now (as I’m sure it is for other women) that I skipped a beat and then, for the sake of not getting into a conversation about my fertility with this random man, I chuckled and tried to change the subject. Only later did I think, “WTF was that? And why is that ever okay to say to a woman whom you don’t know?”
This past year, I also tried out a new esthetician (not the one I see today). Similarly, at some point my age came up and that I was married. Upon hearing “thirty,” this woman point-blank asked me why I didn’t have kids at my age. When I mentioned that I wasn’t ready yet, she had an answer along the lines of that I couldn’t afford to wait and that I needed to have kids because of my age/age of my eggs. So much for a relaxing facial right? Also, just because this was another woman responding to me instead of a man, it doesn’t justify a complete stranger telling me what I needed to do with my body.
These are just two examples that I can remember out of countless others, and I know that there will be more. At times, I’ve gone back and forth about having kids. Some days I can picture it and some days, to be completely honest, I can’t. I don’t shy away from talking about this as I think it’s important to normalize that it’s okay for women to not want to have kids. It’s easy to think that if you don’t have this crazy maternal urge that most people seem to think is required if you have ovaries, that there’s something wrong with you. There’s a lot of people on this planet. If you don’t want kids, no problem. There’s nothing broken or wrong with you, it’s your life, do what you want. Don’t let people tell you otherwise either. And if you do want kids, that’s great too. Again, make the choices that are right for you.
Now, I’m not trying to say that the strangers in the examples above were bad or that they had mean intentions. I don’t think that they meant any harm. The problem, in my mind, is how comfortable our society and strangers feel telling women of a certain age what they should or need to do with their reproductive choices. Just because I’m in my early thirties doesn’t mean it’s okay to tell me all your unsolicited opinions about my aging eggs. Don’t even get me started on people asking women who might be struggling with fertility about their egg or kid situation – it’s not anyone else’s business.
I’m aware that I’m turning 31, and, try as I might to stifle the sound, I can hear the hands on the clock turning just fine on my own. So, yes, I’m about to turn a year older, and, no, I don’t need someone I don’t know commenting about eggs – unless I’m at a birthday brunch – then please ask away. Oh, and bring some more champagne too while you’re at it – because I’m celebrating another trip around the sun and I’m feeling egg-celent.
P.S. Be grateful that I didn’t take a crack at egg-stra egg puns. That’s all for now, yolks!
