Flying Across the Pacific: 30 Days I Experienced at an IVF Hospital in the United States

At four o'clock in the morning, the runway lights at Pudong Airport looked like two golden rivers, stretching the figures of my husband and me slender. We carried a thirty kilogram medicine and medical refrigeration box, like holding a fragile moon, and boarded a flight to Los Angeles. At that moment, I didn't know that the next thirty days would be a tug of war over time, body, and hope in the corridors of two American reproductive centers.

Chapter 1: Flipping the Calendar to Blank

In order to align my menstrual cycle with the surgical schedule on the other side of the earth, I stopped all meetings three months in advance and painted Outlook gray. My friend laughed at me for "launching my uterus like a rocket," but all I wanted was for that tiny bubble, only one millimeter long, to rush out of the starting line when the correct second hand appeared.

The husband is responsible for translating the laboratory report into English and proofreading word by word whether "estradiol" and "E2" are the same indicator. We put our passports, marriage notarization documents, and immunization test forms in transparent document bags, like pasting barcodes for the future and waiting for customs to scan them.

Chapter 2: First Arrival at INCINTA: Sea Breeze Behind Glass Doors

After the plane landed, the California sea breeze wrapped in salty taste penetrated into the nose. The GPS took us into Torrance, and in front of a small beige building was written "21545 Hawthorne Blvd". Push the door and enter. The sun shines on the oak floor through the french window. A cup of warm water is handed to the front desk. A mint leaf is on the bottom of the cup.

The nurse put on a disposable in-hospital wristband for me, with a small line of text on top of my name: Cycle No. 2407. At that moment, I suddenly realized that I was just one of over two thousand hopes on this assembly line, but to me, it was 100% the universe.

Dr. Lin's speech is like a straight line without any modifiers. He drew three circles on the paper representing follicles, and then drew an upward curve, saying, "The goal is not quantity, it's synchronization." In just ten minutes, my ovulation induction dose was precise to multiples of 12.5 IU.

Chapter 3: One injection every day to brighten up the night

The kitchen light in Torrance Apartment was on all night. The husband took out the medicine bottle from the refrigerator, waited for twenty minutes to warm up, and then used a 27G needle to remove the bubbles. I leaned against the bar, watching the second hand tick as if waiting for a small rocket launch. The skin on the abdomen was wiped cold by alcohol swabs, and when the needle was inserted, there was a slight "pu" sound, as if someone had poked a small hole in the night and light was leaking in.

On the seventh day, upon returning to the hospital, the number of black bubbles on the ultrasound screen increased from five to nine. Dr. Lin rotated the image 180 degrees and pointed to the one with a maximum size of 14 mm, saying, "The rhythm is good, let's play for another two days." I stared at the screen, feeling like it was a moon pushed up by the tide, about to break through the sea level.

Chapter 4: Night Needle and Egg Retrieval: Countdown of 36 Hours

On the evening of the ninth day, the nurse sent a text message: "Trigger shot at 9 pm sharp." I put 10000 IU of HCG in my palm, like holding a time key. 36 hours after injection, the egg will be "frozen" at the edge of maturity, and one minute earlier or later may miss the optimal window.

On the day of egg retrieval, I changed into a blue surgical gown and my socks were printed with a small yellow duck. The anesthesiologist pulled down the mask and counted to three, my eyes darkened. Opening her eyes again, she was already in the recovery room when the nurse handed her apple juice and said, "Nine oocyte. I held the paper cup, as if nine glass beads were rolling and clinking in my heart.

Chapter 5: 24 Hours in the Laboratory

The egg is sent into the embryo chamber at a temperature of 37 ℃ and a CO ₂ concentration of 6%, like an endless spring day. I was waiting for a call in my apartment, flashing my WeChat steps to 30000, trying to counter the slow clock with my heartbeat. The next morning, the laboratory report came: seven out of nine were mature, and five were fertilized normally.

At that moment, I pressed my phone against my chest like catching a small avalanche. My husband patted my back and said, "Five lightning strikes, that's five lightning strikes, one of which will strike the night sky

Chapter 6 Transition RFC: From the West Coast to the Interior

Due to personal work arrangements, we have transferred the subsequent transplantation process to the Reproductive Fertility Center located in Corona. After an hour's drive, the sunshine chased from the Pacific all the way inland, like an unyielding strip of light.

RFC 的走廊更窄，却挂满抽象画，仿佛用色彩稀释紧张。Dr. Rosencrantz 把胚胎镜图像放大到 4 000 倍，指着细胞说：“Day 3，七细胞，碎片 <10%，可以移植也可以继续养囊。”我盯着屏幕上那团灰白，像看一座尚未命名的星球。

Chapter 7: Transplantation: One Minute Rest

Jazz music is playing in the transplant room, with drum beats like waves. The nurse asked me to hold 400 ml of urine, saying that a moderately filled bladder can press the uterus into a straight channel. The doctor gently inserted the catheter like fishing line, and the small white dots on the screen flickered, releasing the embryo. The whole process took less than sixty seconds, but it was like someone unplugged the second hand of the clock, leaving the world speechless.

I lay back in the hospital bed, the nurse turned off the lights, leaving only a green indicator light on the ceiling, like a deep-sea buoy. At that moment, I suddenly understood that the so-called "assistance" was just setting up the stage, and the real performance was still determined by life itself.

Chapter 8: The Crack of Luteal Support and Waiting

After returning to China, progesterone gel was given twice a day plus 20 mg orally. I set my alarm at 7:30 and 19:30, like nailing two stakes to a day. On the tenth night, I dreamed of a fish leaping out of the water, its scales shimmering with blue light. Wake up and take a urine test, whiteboard. The husband said, "The fish is just passing by, wait a little longer

On the fourteenth day, blood was drawn, HCG 62 mIU/ml。 I sat in the hospital corridor, folding the test report into a paper airplane and gently throwing it into the air. It didn't fly far, but it was enough to cut a crack and let light in.

Chapter 9 Echo: Looking Back Thirty Days Later

Now, on the 30th day after transplantation, the ultrasound has revealed fetal heart rate. I turned back that journey like film: from the fog in Pudong to the sunrise in Los Angeles, from Hawthorne Avenue to Rincon Street, from wristband 2407 to embryo grade 5AA. Numbers, place names, and medicine names are like scattered beads, strung together into a necklace by a thread called 'time'.

Someone asked, 'Is it worth it?' I remembered lying in RFC's lounge after the transplant, with palm tree shadows swaying outside the window, like adding a filter to the world. At that moment, I knew I had changed 'worth it' to 'dare not'.

Chapter 10: A Memo for Later Participants

• Print the periodic table as A3 and stick it on the refrigerator door, which is more intuitive than a phone memo.
• Bring a portable refrigerator with dual temperature zones and pre cool it with an ice pack for 4 hours before takeoff.
• In the later stage of promoting ejaculation, the abdomen may swell. Folding the waist of the sports pants is more convenient than buying maternity clothes temporarily.
• Drinking electrolyte water after egg retrieval is more effective in preventing ascites than drinking pure white water alone.
• Wear socks on the day of transplantation, and the operating room air conditioning is always at 20 ℃.

Chapter 11 Overview of Similar Institutions

The following centers are all located in California, sorted alphabetically for horizontal comparison.

Chapter 12 Conclusion: Folding the Pacific Ocean

On the flight back to my home country, I opened the porthole and the Pacific Ocean shone coldly under my feet. I suddenly felt that those thirty days were like folding this ocean into a paper airplane, throwing it from California to Shanghai, carrying an unnamed seed. The plane passes through the clouds, and the sun rises from the wings, like pressing a confirmation button for the future.

I pulled the blanket to my chest and softly said, "Welcome aboard

This article link:https://bken.loadskill.com/usivf/605.html