At 75, I used my last frozen egg to become a mother — three days after my daughter was born, a 42-year-old woman knocked on my door.
I froze my eggs at thirty-three, absolutely certain I’d become a mother eventually.
Eventually never came. No husband. No children. Somewhere along the way, I simply stopped believing it ever would.
Then, at seventy-five, I made a decision that everyone around me called completely reckless.
I used my last remaining frozen egg and found a surrogate to carry her.
