Worrying about your biological clock creeps up on you, and it's a haunting feeling

I remember my Nanny, who is now approaching her 92nd birthday, told me that the years will pass by faster and faster, and I don't think I realised the speed at which they're travelling until my thirties came along. I was always very sure of what my future would look like when I was in my twenties, but things changed once my 30th birthday rolled around. I was adamant that having children wasn't part of my plan, but a sudden change of heart came when my 30th birthday rolled around, a milestone I was very happy to reach after years of struggling with suicidal ideation. It was a decade many of my friends raved about, one that has brought a lot of joy and clarity, but one that has also brought a new worry, a worry about a biological clock that I previously would've rolled my eyes at.

Having a baby isn't something I pictured, mainly because there were times when I didn't think I'd even reach my 30th birthday, but a switch flicked when I entered this new era, and it's suddenly something incredibly important to me. It's also a topic of conversation that has suddenly cropped up in conversations over glasses of wine and cups of coffee with my friends. As we exchange Netflix suggestions, gossip about people we once knew in school, and catch up on our love lives, we now start using phrases like 'when we have kids' or 'when I'm a mam', and this time it doesn't feel like make-believe. It feels real, and it's honestly both lovely and terrifying at the same time.

There's a scene in When Harry Met Sally that always pops into my head during these conversations, where Meg Ryan's Sally is crying to Harry (Billy Crystal) about her 40th birthday, which is eight years away. After discovering that her ex-boyfriend is getting married, Sally breaks down at the fear of an uncertain future and of a ticking biological clock. She's in her early thirties in this scene, but that fear is lingering over her, the fear of things not working out as she had hoped. And it's a scene that is something I relate to so much these days.

That fear is something that has started to feel more prevalent in my world, more heavy, and one that's looming over my shoulder on days when I scroll through Instagram to be met with another pregnancy announcement. It has also haunted me on the many doctor's appointments I've attended to figure out why my period is so irregular, a fear of something being wrong with my fertility is something I didn't want to have to worry about, but it is part of life. Could it just be stress? Is it PCOS? Has your anxiety disorder impacted your cycle? Is your egg count lower than it should be for your age?

Every scan, blood test, and appointment increased my 'baby panic', a phrase that perinatal clinical psychologist Bronwyn Leigh has penned to describe the worry you feel once that maternal instinct kicks in.

This is one concern that isn't even influenced by a societal pressure, which is refreshing in its own way, but it's stemming from my own maternal instincts, my own hopes, my own dream to be a mam in the not-so-distant future. It suddenly feels like life has sped up, and one of the most life-changing things may happen in the next couple of years, if everything falls into place, and I'm lucky enough. I know I have time, I know I have options, I know there are so many supports out there when it comes to fertility, but the worry lingers.

Part of me can't believe we're at an age where our worries include having a baby, but there is so much time. According to Professor Michael Chapman, president of the Fertility Society of Australia, "You're not jumping off a cliff because you get to 35 or even 38."

It can feel like we're running out of time, especially when the term 'biological clock' is rooted in stereotypes and societal expectations that women should always stick to their traditional roles and simply exist to procreate. However, being aware of it has only heightened my hopes about being a mam one day, and encouraged me to seek medical support when it came to my own fertility, just to give myself some hope, and a little bit of reassurance.

My doctor is hopeful, I'm trying to be hopeful, and for now, that's all I can focus on. I know so many people have had children later in life, after dozens of issues, and have defied the odds. They give me hope that one day this wish that appeared weeks after my 30th birthday will one day come true.

There's no solution to this worry, nothing that'll make it vanish away, but opening up about the conversation is key here. It's important to be honest, so we're not walking around with these fears whizzing around in our minds and weighing us down. I don't have all the answers, I wish I did, but if you resonate with this at all then just know you're not alone.