Childless in SF

There's no shortage of information out there about cancer treatment and fertility, particularly women's fertility (more potentially usable sperm can be generated, but more eggs can't; what you're born with is all you have, and when you run out you're done). In general, chemo fries your eggs, and anything left over, the radiation further scrambles. This generally causes your periods to stop, at least temporarily, and also often causes premature menopause. Note to self: hot flashes suck.

Most women who get cancer succumb later in life, so fertility is less of an issue. But for the under-30 crowd that gets treated, preserving fertility is apparently their primary concern. At least, according to most of the websites that address the topic, many of which bear titles resembling "How to have kids after cancer".

There are ways to dance around the issue, including freezing eggs (doesn't work very well) and freezing embryos (much more successful, but you have to fertilize them first). All of this entails the risky, expensive, and body-intensive world of fertility treatments down the road.

With my permission, my doctor opted for the more experimental (and unproven) method of shutting down ovary production during the chemo and radiation months. This is supposed to protect your eggs somehow.

But truth be told, I'm really not all that depressed about losing the chance to get pregnant. (Sorry, Mom.) Is that such a horrible, anti-woman thing to say? I'm relieved I don't have my period. I'm happy I don't have to worry about getting pregnant. (Plus, no body hair!) I've not worried much about timing my career to fit in kids, because I've haven't been that dead-set on having any.

Not that I hate kids or that I revel in a selfish career- or party-focused lifestyle. I loved being a camp counselor when I was younger. I did my share of babysitting as a teen. I've eagerly volunteered in some tough schools. I've helped fund kids' education. One of the most rewarding experiences of my adult life was helping to raise two amazing kids for a few years. I'm always glad to take care of (or take in) someone else's kids if they need it, no matter if it derails my career plans or my personal life. And foster parenting is extremely attractive to me, although for the kids' sake, I'm waiting until I'm out of the "military-operational-single-mom" category.

What I don't get is the assumption, whether by the media, by well-meaning friends and family, or by religion, that not wanting to pass along my personal genetic material somehow makes me unworthy of my estrogen. "It's such a shame," they whisper amongst themselves. "I'm so sorry," they say out loud.

I'm not. I'm relieved I got an easy out on this one. Now I can say the reason I'm not having kids is because my eggs were cooked. But should I have to have such a terrible excuse?