I n 2014, freezing my eggs felt like a groundbreaking act of empowerment. Technology seemed to provide an insurance policy that preserved the possibility of future motherhood. Yet I did not anticipate the emotional landscape that I would face a decade later, as a scientific intervention became a personal meditation on time, money, and unfulfilled dreams. I always assumed I would have children. I adored my young cousins, babysat from a young age, and earned money in college by working in a