Can i be 46 and pregnant

Polycystic ovary syndrome is a common cause of infertility. We'll discuss why and what you can do. AMH levels help determine your ovarian reserve or the number of eggs you have at the time of testing.

But they don't necessarily predict infertility. At 21 years old, my motivation to donate was simple: I wanted to help a couple achieve their dream of becoming parents.

As an adult adoptee in a same-gender relationship, I never expected it'd be hard to let go of the idea of being pregnant. Once I did, I came face to…. Health Conditions Discover Plan Connect. What to Know About Fertility and Aging.

Medically reviewed by Carolyn Kay, M. Pregnancy success at different ages. Younger than 35 years old 31 percent 35 to 37 years old 24 percent 38 to 40 years old 16 percent 41 to 42 years old 8 percent 43 years old and older 3 percent.

When is it too late for pregnancy? Risks of pregnancy after age Questions to ask your doctor. Other ways to add to your family. Additional considerations. The takeaway. Parenthood Becoming a Parent. Read this next. A Look at Your Fertility Timeline. Medically reviewed by Debra Rose Wilson, Ph. Medically reviewed by Deborah Weatherspoon, Ph. Your Guide to the Egg Donation Process.

I hate being pregnant, the first trimester sickness starts early and persists until the bitter end. I remember the indignity of vomiting at work, the plastic bag just in case for the tube. I start to calculate how many years I will be around for this latest child. If I eat healthily and exercise I might make it to my mids so it will have me around for nearly 40 years — not so bad then. I remember grimly how I disapprove of desperate woman in their 50s seeking the help of Italian fertility experts.

I feel I've been selfish in conceiving a child who will be embarrassed to have the oldest mum in the playground. I'm self-obsessed and appalled at my body changing so rapidly — my previous pregnancies have left me with no abdominal muscles, so at 10 weeks I look about ready to give birth. I keep glancing in the mirror, watching my roots, worse by far to be an elderly mother who is grey, and I consider Botox.

My partner is endlessly sympathetic, although he points out gently that this baby needs me to want it. Telling the children frightens me. I am convinced that another child will ruin their lives. I am sure I promised Lydia I would never, ever have another child and that she would be the youngest for ever.

I worry that Maddy will be embarrassed. It turns out that I underestimate my children and it is they, more than anyone, who make me feel much better about my pregnancy. My partner and I take each of them aside, eldest first, to tell them. That way they won't feel obliged to check how their siblings are dealing with the news. Sam is emotional in a "new life is wonderful" hippy sort of way; Maddy is kind and concerned.

Fortunately she doesn't recall previous promises to preserve her status as the youngest and is mildly excited, cuddling my tummy and talking to the baby. Despite the fact they would rather have a puppy, they are both thoughtful and touchingly protective of me.

Ideally I would have the chance to talk through my paranoia about my pregnancy with an obstetrician, but despite my GP asking for an urgent referral, nothing happens. I'm reduced to tears by repeatedly phoning the hospital, explaining that I am old and likely to die in childbirth from a haemorrhage after the birth or to have a severely disabled baby.

Please could I talk through the risks with someone? Apparently not. I decide to have a chorionic villus sampling test, which detects genetic abnormalities by collecting a morsel of tissue from the foetus.

There is no guarantee of a healthy baby and it seems indecent to want one, but I need to know either way. Since I can't get an early enough appointment at the hospital I decide to cough up and go privately — the first time ever.

I wish it wasn't, but going private is wonderful. The consultant reassures me that as this pregnancy occurred naturally, I'm likely to have a good outcome. He clearly believes in the "it was meant to be" school of obstetrics, although I'm not sure how scientific this really is. But he discusses the procedure well and carries it out swiftly and painlessly. Even so, I feel the familiar stirrings of maternal panic — will the baby survive this unnatural intrusion, will the results be OK and what will we do if they aren't?

The results come two days later. There's no obvious genetic problem and I'm relieved. For the first time this pregnancy feels more real, as though I can begin to believe that the baby and I can do this thing. My partner and I begin to tell more people. Our mothers are delighted, I wonder if they've really thought it through, but it's gratifying when people show undiluted excitement. I'm still full of caveats, to the extent that I make it difficult for friends and colleagues to say congratulations.

I tell the news in a "my cat has just died" sort of way. Some of them are in touch a few hours later to apologise for not congratulating me, and I reassure them that my delivery made them hesitate. Should I even try at this age?

Or would donor eggs make more sense? I will discuss these issues as well with my doctor once my surgery is over. Thank you for seeking a second opinion from me. First, keep in mind that FSH is a measure of ovarian function, which means that your ovaries probably would be able to be stimulated by fertility medications.

This, however, does not indicate that the eggs within are still good quality. This is the problem with age. It is not ovarian function, it is egg quality. As you know, women are born with all the eggs that they have for their lifetime. Like all the cells in our bodies, eggs deteriorate with age and so they are less fertile. As such, the statistics are not in your favor.

Even with IVF, there are almost no reported pregnancies after the age of