I See You, Solo Woman +40, Even If A $19.3bn Fertility Industry Doesn’t
And the launch of the 'Emily Listens Call' to support you after egg collection
Instagram: @solofertility40s
Two failed cycles in five months.
Two horrible experiences, first at a clinic in Spain, and then at a clinic in Greece. Horrible, for different reasons.
Pursuing a baby using your own eggs aged 43 was never going to be easy. The low stats make that clear.
If stats are even to be believed.
Because they’re spliced and diced so differently that comparisons are tricky. And some clinics are only too happy to capitalise on this confusion.
So much smoke and mirrors.
Even more than the PR agencies I used to work for in London, in my former corporate life, promoting some of the world’s largest technology companies.
From writing about the backend nitty gritty of everyday devices, and the semiconductors that underpin them, to telecomms, renewable technologies, software and hardware - I enjoy understanding how things work, and distilling for others.
Perhaps it’s in your blood when you're family are engineers and data scientists.
Like many of us, I am not trained in western medicine (but I am in Eastern energy and body work practices) but nonetheless, we are intelligent women who know how to research our options.
Yet I’ve frequently found myself made passive by the active medical “expert” who knows best.
(Briana Theroux, a science reporter, recently wrote about this in her excellent article, relaying her unpleasant exchanges with fertility medics.)
These days, I’m writing about the business of law for a US company, and am cruising through the backend nuts and bolts of understanding my own body.
(And writing stories for you, as I explore the inner workings of the fertility industry.)
Ovaries, eggs, sperm, mitochondria, chromosomes, cells, proteins, lipids, and amino acids - the precious, miraculous building blocks of life, are my new reading material.
And the Assisted Reproductive Technologies (ART) that I’ve been investing in.
Entering the world of IVF, I never imagined I’d be scanning scientific journals, growing a head for numbers (I prefer words) and repeatedly putting the latest research in front of my doctor.
Because, as I’ve realised, to assume they’re keeping pace with research is a foolish assumption.
Why?
Because the game, as we know, is so much harder for women above 40.
Which means keeping abreast of research, and doing ‘the work’ to get you a baby using your own eggs. And some doctors simply don't have the time or inclination to do so.
Not when they can simply roll out their favourite protocol for women your age, and presume we all work the same.
So you better learn fast and advocate hard if you’re solo - because no one else is going to do so for you.
Plus - as if undertaking IVF itself isn’t already overwhelming enough - add in medical gaslighting, lazy doctors, and sleazy social media forums run by self-appointed admins with a hazy agenda, and it becomes clear that navigating IVF requires more than a bit of faith and a hefty bank balance.
As well as grit, determination and courage, you’re also going to need:
Seriously strong self-care practices;
A supportive tribe who speak your language;
Some form of fertility google maps to help you navigate the IVF industry.
The birth of Solo Fertility 40s
The instagram account came to life in September 2024.
This Substack platform I’m writing on arrived shortly after.
By this point, I was three months into making sense of IVF, and also recovering from my first failed cycle in Spain.
I felt so lonely.
I couldn’t find my tribe - women who could relate - and most of my close friends had vanished.
Where are the solo women over 40 years old?
I checked in with a few friends in their late 40s for whom IVF had been unsuccessful.
But I was nervous about triggering any bad memories so I cautiously shared about my own IVF difficulties.
How to find my tribe?
‘Build it, and they will come’ I concluded.
So I started writing. And connecting with women, solo and partnered, around the world.
Sure enough, the tribe started to form, though in a rather haphazard fashion.
Anyway, I feel certain that women pursuing a solo path to motherhood is a rapidly growing cohort.
HFEA stats released in their November 2024 report highlight that, in the UK, the number of women having fertility treatment has more than doubled in the past decade.
Specifically, there were 4,800 women without a partner who had IVF or donor insemination treatment in 2022, a 243% increase from the 1,400 single women who had fertility treatment in 2012.
Fast forward another two years, and I suspect the number of solo women as we reach the end of 2024 has exploded even further, for a multitude of social and cultural reasons.
You’re likely aware of the plethora of articles highlighting the failure of dating apps, and their effort to keep us scrolling and doom-dating.
I’ve had enough of the apps - and awful dates - and so have many other women.
The proportion of the HFEA’s solo women above 40 is not identified, and stats for this cohort are hard to find.
But my sense is that this is a fast growing group.
And the fertility industry is yet to catch up with protocols and codes of practice to support solo women, especially those above 40.
The result?
Based on my own meanderings through the fertility industry and direct experiences of IVF over the past six months - solo women above 40 are unseen, overlooked and ignored, by doctors and fertility service providers, who are yet to grasp the wants, needs and challenges of solo women in this age group.
Missing the Marketing 101 for solo women +40.
“Marketing is the process of promoting, selling, and distributing a product or service to meet the needs and wants of customers.”
What do I mean by this?
The evidence:
The Membership I was pitched:
“Join to access our group calls for solo women.”
Want to be on a call with other solo women, including a 31 year old, wondering what supplements to take? Or a 35 year old, curious about egg freezing?
Hmmm - I’m 43 and my main focus is improving egg quality, so being lumped in with other solo women doesn’t feel like it will truly meet my needs.
But apparently, the facilitator running the virtual group is in her 40s and a solo parent.
Hmmm - I’m 43 and not a solo parent and didn’t get pregnant in my 30s like the facilitator. Relatable circumstances? I think not.
The fertility books I’ve bought:
Chapters on improving sperm quality, when to conceive, nutrition for men.
Hmmm - doesn't feel good to be confronted with this information that reminds me about my lack of partner. (I feel empowered to pursue this path but still saddened that this isn't what I imagined for family-making.)
The webinars I’ve joined:
Constant references to partners, couples relaying their fertility challenges, and how to support men through infertility.
Hmmm, nope.
The coaches and their free ‘guides’ I’ve downloaded:
Recommendations to have lots of sex.
Hmmm, I’ll just magic up a partner then (and one I’d want as the father of my child).
The shady marketing content:
“This woman +45 is finally pregnant thanks to my fertility blueprint.”
Hmmm - no mention of whether that’s using her own eggs (OE) or donor eggs (DE). Both a cause for celebration, yet very different pathways and challenges to navigate.
Why omit this vital bit of detail?
Opportunities to be won for first movers.
Women above 40 accept that it may require at least three IVF cycles to find a euploid egg and to carry this to a live birth.
It’s a costly path (as is opting for donor eggs.)
And with only one salary, funds are limited. So I’m not going to part with my cash easily. How to make me spend?
Be relatable.
Tell me you understand my challenges. Empathise with my situation. And please - stop using woolly stats to sell me your service.
With so many ‘experts’ not speaking to me, there is huge opportunity for the better ones to differentiate, and stand above the rest.
Those are the clinics who will get my money.
Understanding the solo woman’s experience
Twice I’ve woken alone in a foreign country, after an egg collection operation.
If you’re solo and opting to go abroad for fertility treatment, it’s unavoidable. Whether clinics are actually set up to support you as a solo woman is another matter.
In Spain, I was given forms to sign before the sedation (my first) entirely in Spanish.
I refused.
And this is supposedly a clinic with international patients that claims 45 years’ experience.
The nurse gave me ‘similar’ forms to read in English. So I grudgingly signed the Spanish document. Apparently, paying thousands doesn’t get you consent forms in your own language.
Welcome to Clinica Tambre’s almost non-existent patient care.
After the operation, I was woken up, not allowed any time to rest, hurried down to reception, and while still groggy, I booked an Uber to my hotel.
As I departed, I asked the nurse waving me off (sounds friendly but actually it was hard to discern whether she had any empathic capacity), “Do many women visit your clinic alone?”
“No” she replied, and closed the door.
Back in my hotel room, where the night before I’d held a call with the US, just after doing my trigger shot (because it’s only me funding this) I slumped onto the bed and reached for my phone.
“Emily, is that you”?
“Hello Sarah - how are you feeling”?
I breathed a sigh of relief. A friendly voice.
Just a phone call was all it took to help me feel safer and more ok with what had just happened, precious bits of me removed, now sitting in some lab. I wasn’t prepared for it feeling so odd.
I share this to illustrate an important truth:
We have the opportunity to support one another. And it’s vital we do, because the fertility world is far from ready to do so.
Emily is a wonderful women I connected with in a fertility forum. She had already undertaken three cycles so knew I would want a kind ear when feeling so fragile.
And she was right.
We spoke (for the first time) for over an hour. I was too groggy to recall the detail. I caught a bus to the beach and paid an exorbitant amount to hire a sunbed. What’s another 15 euros when you’ve already shelled out thousands?
The day passed in a dissociated haze.
The next day, it became apparent that the awfulness of the egg collection, and lack of empathy and support from the medical team, had triggered my PTSD. The confusion, the overwhelm, the lack of kindness as I entered the operating theatre.
It was too much.
(It’s still too raw to write about in detail.)
Waiting at the airport, desperate for familiarity and home comforts, I found myself on the edge of numerous panic attacks.
I almost crumbled as I waited in departures.
As the Crowdstrike software glitch brought global air operations to a standstill, I messaged with another amazing woman I’d met in a fertility forum.
Francesca’s support kept me in one piece - a broken piece but sane enough to board a plane after several hours of waiting, alone, in Alicante airport, surrounded by stressed out passengers.
Solo but supported - the launch of the ‘Emily Listens Call’
We know the game is harder after 40.
Repeat egg collections, the donor egg suggestions casually dropped into conversation by unempathic doctors as if they’re commenting on the weather, and the challenge of finding a doctor who will actually do the legwork to get you your bundle of joy, rather than give you an eye-roll and use your older eggs as the excuse for the failed cycle.
(“Poor egg quality is lazy and over-used.” Emma The Embryologist shared a fantastic post about this.)
It’s hard, really hard.
And until the fertility industry catches up with truly supporting solo women, and especially solo women over 40, the best thing we can do is support one another.
Do you agree?
So here I am, sharing about what I’m learning, and hoping you’ll join me.
I’m seeing you, your need to ask questions (though doctors often don’t want to listen), the vast amount of research you're doing to know when and where to invest your hard earned cash, and your right to be treated like the powerful female that you are.
And doing it all solo because you have the right to decide how you choose to make a family.
Paying it forward
Need someone to phone you after your egg collection?
Or can you spare time to call another solo woman (of any age) who might need a friendly ear?
Get in touch to offer your time, or request a call.
fertility40s@gmail.com
A kind word could make a huge difference to another woman’s post egg-collection recovery process.
A little less alone. A little less overwhelmed. A little less tired of it all.
The best fertility clinics will cash in
In the meantime, the fertility world will hopefully listen more closely to understand our wants and needs.
No more being fobbed off with finger-pointing at our older eggs (while acknowledging this is absolutely one part of the challenge.)
And women like you and I must demand better standards, and vote with our wallets.
The clinics who truly care should win our cash, and their share of the fertility industry’s projected $47.9 billion market value by 2033.
Even today's market value, estimated at $19.3 billion in 2023, points to what a giant industry this already is.
It’s serious money, involving serious life-changing decisions. So why aren't more doctors putting in the effort for the thousands we are spending?
The losers will be clinics who give you forms to sign not in your native language; doctors gatekeeping their medical expertise because you couldn’t possibly be intelligent enough to advocate for your own body; and a whole load more malpractice I’ll be shining a light on, in stories to come.
Keep shining. We have each other.
NEW: Resources page on Solo Fertility 40s with my favourite webinars, articles, forums and podcasts.
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Sarah x
fertility40s@gmail.com