
New Delhi, May 2, 2026: In a world where women are increasingly balancing high-pressure careers with personal life goals, actor Akansha Ranjan Kapoor has sparked a vital conversation. Known for her roles in Guilty and Monica, O My Darling, the 32-year-old recently shared a deeply personal chapter of her life: her decision to undergo egg freezing. While she has been open about the empowerment this choice brought her, she was equally candid about the grueling physical reality of the process, revealing that she struggled to even walk for days following the procedure.
The answer lies in a blend of medical awareness, the desire for autonomy, and a forward-looking perspective on insurance—not for a car or a home, but for her future self.
Akansha’s journey didn’t begin with a spur-of-the-moment decision. It was triggered by observations within her own social circle. As many of her peers began their own paths toward parenthood, she noticed a common trend: the prevalence of fertility challenges.
“Everyone started doing tests, and they were like, ‘You should get your AMH done,'” Akansha shared during a recent appearance on Soha Ali Khan’s podcast, All About Her. The Anti-Müllerian Hormone (AMH) test is a standard clinical measure used to estimate a woman’s ovarian reserve, or the number of eggs remaining in her ovaries.
When Akansha received her results, she learned that her AMH levels were relatively low for her age. Coupled with the reality of “unexplained infertility” she saw among friends and acquaintances, the decision became clear. It wasn’t fueled by fear, but rather by an “understanding”—a pragmatic realization that if she wanted the option of motherhood in the future, she needed to take action now.
While the clinical definition of egg freezing—or oocyte cryopreservation—is often presented as a straightforward medical step, Akansha’s experience highlighted the intense physical toll it can take.
The two-week process involves daily hormone injections to stimulate the ovaries, frequent scans, blood tests, and ultimately, a surgical retrieval. For Akansha, the aftermath was far more demanding than she had anticipated.
“Physically, I was in a lot of pain… I couldn’t stand straight because it just felt like there was a big balloon inside me,” she revealed. The discomfort was not like typical menstrual cramps; it was a profound sense of bloating and heaviness. For two to three days, the pain was so significant that walking became a struggle. Even simple daily tasks, which she usually navigated with ease, became monumental challenges.
When she inquired about exercise, her doctor recommended walking, but as she candidly admitted, even that “20-minute wobble” around her building felt like an achievement. It was a raw, unfiltered look at the hormonal fluctuations and physical strain that many public figures tend to gloss over.
Despite the pain, the bloating, and the exhaustion, Akansha maintains that the choice was “liberating.” Her motivation stems from several key factors that many modern women can relate to:
Akansha’s willingness to share the “ugly” side of the process—the needles, the pain, and the immobility—has resonated deeply with her audience. In an industry that often demands perfection, her transparency offers a grounded, human perspective.
She hasn’t shied away from the reality that every body reacts differently. She acknowledged that her intense physical reaction might not be the universal experience, but by sharing it, she has validated the experiences of many other women who go through similar struggles in silence.
Her journey stands as a testament to the fact that taking control of one’s future is rarely easy. It requires sacrifice, physical endurance, and the courage to make tough, personal choices. As Akansha put it, the female body is “extraordinary,” and for her, the temporary pain was a small price to pay for the long-term freedom to decide when, and how, she chooses to start her family.