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There is a specific flavour of panic that colours the existence of the Pakistani woman. It develops as she becomes cognizant of society’s Three Holy Ms: Money, Marriage, and Motherhood, all three for which she is expected to stick a landing within a tyrannically slim opening in time.
One of them, Rubab Shahid, had spent what some would call her biologically prime years, focusing on the M of her own damn choosing: Money. She went full throttle on her career and like other women, mused that marriage would eventually find its place in the grand scheme of her things.
Fast forward to her year 37. Rubab was a boss lady at work, but her relationship status still checked the single box on intrusive government forms. She had navigated a mediocrity-soaked dating pool into her early 30s but had not come close to finding someone who wouldn’t make her grind her teeth at night. It became clear then that time waits for no man, and certainly no husband. By 38, she had resolved to preserve her fertility.
In 2020, she booked her first consultation with one of Pakistan’s well-known In-Vitro Fertilization (IVF) specialists, who also happened to be her mother’s friend. “Oh my God, if you do this, you will delay marriage even more,” he oozed. “We can freeze your eggs, but why now? You’re still young. Find a guy!” He did not supplement his moral prescription with clinical investigation.
