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I’m 29, single and while I'm not dreaming of nappy changes quite yet, I know I want it one day

I’m at a hen do. We’re sipping cheap Prosecco through penis straws while a semi-naked butler hovers nearby.

But that’s where the hen party clichés end. Instead of discussing sex tips and past lovers, the conversation turns to egg-freezing. Yep, the buzz-kill subject of how to beat the biological clock is an increasingly hot topic among my female friends as we exit our twenties.

Maybe this is the 30th birthday present we all need?

A rapid advance in technology has made the procedure far more widespread. Egg freezing (which basically involves harvesting, freezing and storing eggs for later use) has been around for over three decades, but a new “flash freezing” process known as became available in 2012 - heralded as a “game changer” by the industry for its improved success rates.

Having been in a relationship throughout my twenties, I’d always assumed a baby would just turn up at some point. Like getting too drunk on your parents' booze cabinet, watching Love Actually at Christmas or attempting to smoke banana skins (we’ve all been there, right?), it just felt like a rite of passage that would happen without too much planning.

Yet here I am, unexpectedly single at 29, without even the suggestion of a baby on the horizon. Thanks to social media, it sometimes feels like everyone I know is getting engaged, married or pregnant, while I’m just getting… drunk?

While I’m not dreaming of nappy changes quite yet, I know I want it one day. But there’s no guarantee that the magical stars of house, husband, job and baby will align.

Meanwhile, egg freezing feels impossible to avoid. Pop star Rita Ora recently revealed she had  bringing the debate centre stage. Ads are plastered across public transport, with troubling slogans like “Free your eggs, free your career”. They’re in newspapers and even on  Tech firms like Facebook and Apple have to their female employees.

The idea has appeal. Pop my youthful eggs in the freezer, get on with dating/my career/planning friends’ hen-dos – and get my 30-year-old eggs out when I need them.

The Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority (HFEA), the British regulatory body for fertility clinics, found the number of women having their eggs frozen tripled between 2009 and 2014. This figure includes both “social egg freezing” (the kind I’m considering) and egg freezing for medical reasons. The latter is typically used by young women facing sterility after cancer treatment.

 from 2017 suggests one of the main drivers for social egg freezing is “a dearth of eligible men”. For all the single ladies who’ve been subjected to toe-curling Tinder banter (“Wanna make sex?!”) this sounds like our worst fears confirmed.

Egg freezing doesn’t come cheap. One cycle of egg harvesting (which is only available from private clinics) could cost between £2,500 and £5,000 – and there’s no guarantee once will be enough.

Then there’s the emotional cost. The grinning women on glossy pamphlets make it look like a spa day out – but it’s more complex than many realise.

The process involves medical tests, hormone injections, pain, time off work, and eventual egg extraction under deep sedation or general anaesthetic.

All that, and then no guarantee that a frozen egg will ever equal a baby.

That being said, the HFEA puts the current birth rate for women who thaw their frozen eggs and undergo IVF at 19%. Back in 2011, the birth rate was at 11%, so things are - slowly - getting better. Sure, that’s still less than one in five women, but the birth rate for women using fresh eggs for IVF is 21%, meaning it is only 2% behind. 

So, is this “insurance” against the ticking biological clock – or just a slickly sold product that plays on women’s fears?

Dr Geeta Nargund is a prominent egg freezing advocate. She’s described it as, “the second wave of women’s emancipation since the pill". If anyone can convince me of the procedure's merits, it’s going to be her.

“As women get older, their fertility declines sharply, both in terms of the quantity and quality of their eggs. Nature has created gender inequality – and egg freezing is a way to combat that,” she tells me.

Yet she is transparent about there being no guarantees. “It’s a back-up, designed to improve chances. Always try naturally first.”

Social egg freezing is increasingly big business for fertility clinics, part of an already-lucrative fertility industry said to be worth 

Sarah Norcross, Director of the Progress Educational Trust, tells me: “It’s a really difficult issue. It’s impossible to escape that fact that it’s a business – women are paying to have a service that they didn’t used to have. These women may never even use the eggs they spend thousands freezing.”

Dr Susan Bewley, who specialises in complex obstetrics (the branch of medical science concerned with pregnancy and childbirth) at King’s College London, stresses women shouldn’t pin their hopes on the process.

“I think the presentation of this as ‘insurance’ is wrong. It’s actually a gamble.”

She adds: “It’s never going to be the perfect time for a baby. If you wait for absolutely everything to be right - your man, your home, your job - it’ll just never happen.”

I speak to women who’ve actually gone through the process.

Alice Mann (not her real name) under a pseudonym about egg freezing. She was 36, single and living in London when she had her eggs frozen in 2014. She froze 14 eggs across three cycles, thawing them last year aged 39. When defrosted, only one of the eggs created a viable embryo - which did not result in a pregnancy.

“I’m not sorry I did it, because otherwise I’d have always wondered ‘what if?’. There’s a Russian Roulette element to it - until you defrost them and try to get pregnant, you have no idea what their quality is like,” she says.

Lydia, a 33-year-old humanitarian aid worker, got her eggs frozen last year after breaking up with her boyfriend. The fact success is not guaranteed didn't discourage her because she accepts the procedure is still relatively new.

She describes it as, “a huge relief. I’ve had a lot of problems, from endometriosis to cysts, and I knew that increased my risk of infertility as I grew older.

“It’s taken the pressure out of dating, or any new relationships. In fact when I tell men I’ve done it, they think it’s smart. The reaction has been really positive."

So will I be crowdsourcing for an egg-freezing donation come my 30th birthday? Actually, I think not.

For women who can afford it and are clued-up about what the process involves and its success rates, fair play to them. But to me, it’s not empowering. When it comes to beating the biological clock, I’ve decided to relax, enjoy being single and put my fertility fears on ice for now.

This article was first published in October 2017.

To learn more about egg freezing, watch Sex Map of Britain: Eggs on Ice, available on iPlayer now.