On Eggs

My grandmother Deany was wild about Easter eggs. Add to that her absentminded ways in the kitchen and you’ve got CHAOS: boiling eggs, dye cups, and 15 grandchildren armed with crayons. Spry despite her bow legs with ankles the size of grapefruits—even speed couldn’t prevent her from forgetting her eggs in the pressure cooker -- exploding a dozen all over the kitchen. From then on, I kept a closer eye on the eggs.

Now, 30 years later, I’ve got an eye on my own. But they’re not so much exploding as approaching their expiration date. The thing is, I’m at a scary age -38—with no baby in sight. With every laugh line or gray hair I picture my eggs withering by the hour - an exaggeration. But hey, that’s how my mind works. So I’ve frozen more than a dozen-- fourteen to be exact. But these eggs aren’t in a crate from Whole Foods. These eggs are mine.

Since I can’t put my eggs in a nest, I opt to pump my body full of hormones, have my eggs surgically extracted and then cryo-preserved. Sounds easy enough right? By freezing, I’ve tried to make up for lost time: being a late bloomer, spending too much time in graduate school, and waiting too long for my “real life” to begin. And while the technology is deemed experimental, with no guarantees--I don’t know of any guarantees in western medicine. DO YOU?

Haven’t I been fertile since I was like TWELVE? I’m mean, REALLY, what have I been DOING? I’m ready to take this womb out onto the open road to see what it can do. But you’re supposed to have all your ducks in a row before having children: the mate, the 401k…And a few of my ducks are stragglers.

Growing a batch of eggs takes about two weeks. People talk to their babies in utero. I talk to my eggs: “Okay ladies, let me go over the particulars. A nice doctor is going to come get you and put you in a freezer where you can take a long nap. If you’re awakened, that means I’m asking you to help make a BABY. But only come if you’re eager for a BIG adventure…”

The truth: I’m hoping not to need these eggs, that I’ll get pregnant naturally when the time is right. These eggs are my back-up plan, but I’m not going to tell THEM that.

In the clinic, the lobby is full of couples with fertility problems or women preserving their eggs before chemotherapy. But here I am, healthy with all my parts in order. It’s just that my life hasn’t lined up perfectly with my body’s abilities. Statistically--by 41-- over ninety percent of my eggs will be toast.

People ask how it feels to have preserved my eggs. I’ll tell you: it’s fantastic, like a weight has lifted. No matter what happens, I feel extraordinarily lucky to avail myself of the most advanced technology. Medicine aims to optimize health. And for me, reproductive longevity is an important part of that picture.

So now I’ve got 14 eggs living in something that looks more like a propane tank for a barbeque, than a home for my children to be. But I think of them like hope - like hope in a petri dish.

While Megan Griswold is on the road with her one-woman show ‘Fix It’ her eggs reside comfortably in Boston, Massachusetts.