My Egg Freezing Process: What's Oprah Got To Do With It?
“Sounds like my worst nightmare, Doc. Honestly.”
“What do your parents think about this?”
“They say they just want me to be happy.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ll tell you now that’s BULL. They want grandchildren. What would they say is their greatest achievement in life?”
He has me there. “It’s me, of course. But not my brother. He’s an a**hole.”
He’s ecstatic. “See? YOU. That could be you. Your greatest achievement in life could be motherhood.”
“Doc, in case you didn’t hear me, I don’t have the time. I don’t have the money.”
“God will take care of you!”
Suddenly I feel tears well up in my eyes. (Oh hell. I am NOT tryin’ to have a spiritual experience at the butt doctor.) But there it is: that’s the only thing the he’s said that I actually buy. I’m not a religious person, but I did used to watch Oprah. And one time when Oprah had gained all this weight after losing all this weight for the 8th time, she was like “I’m not going to be ashamed of my body because God has blessed me in this body.” And I remember thinking, “He has! Holy sh*t, Oprah, you may be fat now, but you’re rich and powerful!”
I’m not rich or powerful, and I’m only fat on occasion. But I have a really good life. God, or whoever (let’s be honest God is probably Oprah anyway) has taken care of me. If I’m meant to have kids, I’ll have them. If I’m not, I still have a lot of other amazing stuff. Hilarious friends, a fun job, parents who—despite what the butt doctor says—truly DON’T give a crap if I give them grandkids or not. In the meantime, I will sleep until noon on the weekends, and do my very best not to make myself miserable trying to avoid some vague possible future regret.