“This is Marina. “She runs a feminist organization.” This is how I am introduced at the entrance to an event whose objective is to “normalize egg freezing,” organized by a startup that collaborates with a private fertility clinic. It’s a misunderstanding, but for a moment I wonder if that’s what I should do, and my mind wanders.
The event will take place at a private club in a bougie area of London. We are gathered on pastel-colored chairs and the air in the room feels like cold wool. I sit and listen, along with other women, as if I am here to learn about my fertility, as if I am wondering if I should freeze my eggs. I’m here to find out how the organizers talk about egg freezing. It’s research for my book on innovation in women’s health, The vagina business.
In the United States, some clinics organize “egg freezing parties” with champagne and canapes. They create a sense of solidarity around “taking control” of our “biological clock.” Pop-up buses offer free fertility testing. Whenever a company offers something for free, it is worth considering its business model and whether you are about to become the product. There’s no champagne at the event I’ve attended, and despite the lively empowering language in the invitation, the mood is somber.
The women in the audience are in their 20s and 30s, almost exclusively white, and wear black leather skirts and cashmere sweaters. We’re asked to complete a survey and the woman in front of me puts her copy under her chair, so the moment I look at my feet I can’t help but see that she earns between £70,000 and £100,000 a year. ($94,000 and $134,000). That’s more than double the average income of a Londoner.
The fertility clinic presenter says: “I fully appreciate that thinking about fertility is overwhelming.” She says that while women are good at eating well and exercising, we neglect our fertility. “Those are not easy conversations to have.” With urgency in her voice, she says that the conversation we’re about to have is even easier than the conversations she has with clients who have struggled to conceive for years and have run out of options. Congratulate the audience for taking the first step in understanding their fertility by attending this event.
And here lies the first problem. Fertility is not part of our education and is not a topic that healthcare providers routinely address. That, however, means that anything the presenters say could be accepted as fact. Women who have learned about their fertility for the first time find themselves in a vulnerable position.
How many eggs do I need to freeze?
A woman in her thirties, sitting in the audience, asks how many eggs she would need to freeze to have a child later. “I promise I’m not trying to be shy; It is very difficult to answer questions about the success rate,” says the presenter. She says some clients only had one egg retrieval cycle (which might produce a few eggs) and that’s okay.
At that point, I would like to provide the researcher with an evidence-based table on the number of eggs they need to freeze. A few eggs are a bad idea. But I realize that if I produce a research paper with my handbag, in the eyes of the public, the presenters are running a clinic and I am just an unknown woman with a bright orange umbrella.
