Preface: Flip the calendar to day 0
At 2 o'clock in the morning, I dragged my 28 inch suitcase out of Los Angeles International Airport. The Pacific wind carries a salty taste, but it cannot dispel the fire in my heart - on the calendar, today is circled as "Day 0" by a red pen. In 30 days, I will be on the other side of the earth, rewriting 'possible' as' already '.
Day 1-3 First visit: Trust in numbers and temperature
The IFC IVF Center (INCINTA) in the United States is located in a small beige building in Torrance, with a row of California hibiscus planted at the entrance. What was handed over at the front desk was not a form, but a warm wheat tea cup. When Dr. James P. Lin placed the ultrasound probe on my abdomen, the black and white particles on the screen looked like stars in the polar night. He pointed to one of the bright spots and said, 'This is the starting point.' At that moment, the numbers and temperature reached the heart at the same time.
Day 4-7 Plan: Give Each Follicle a Name
The medication plan is printed on mint green notes, and the daily injection time, dosage, and review milestones are arranged in more detail than the music festival schedule. When the nurse handed me the needle, she first asked me to try it on the back of my hand - 'Learn to be gentle with yourself first'. Four days later, ultrasound showed that 5 follicles on the left and 7 follicles on the right were numbered, resembling small soldiers waiting for inspection. The doctor said, "We don't pursue the most, we just give every one a chance to grow
Day 8-12 Night Needle: Moonlight and Adrenaline
The night needle is scheduled for 9:36 pm. I lay on the balcony of the hotel watching the moon, and the "plop" sound of the needle piercing my skin was as light as a seabird skimming over the water. 20 minutes later, the slight tremble brought by adrenaline made my fingertips numb, but suddenly I burst out laughing - it turns out that courage also has a physiological response.
Day 13 Egg Retrieval: A 12 Minute Parallel Universe
The operating room is playing the original soundtrack of 'La La Land'. The anesthesiologist said, 'Imagine you're at Griffith Observatory,' and the next second I fell into the golden tunnel. Open your eyes again, twelve minutes have passed, and life has been stolen and returned. The doctor made a gesture of "12" -12, exactly one dozen. I touched my lower abdomen and whispered, "You've worked hard, everyone
Day 14-18 Training: Tides in the Laboratory
INCINTA's embryo chamber is separated by two layers of glass, resembling an underwater tunnel. The incubator is flashing blue light, with a humidity of 99% and a temperature of 37 ℃, simulating the tides of my body. Every afternoon, the laboratory will send a "Growth Briefing": Day 1- Clear Prokaryotes; Day 3- Eight cell symmetry; Day 5- Embryo expansion. The text is short, yet like a love letter.
Day 19 Migration: Shrinking the Universe into a speck of dust
Set the transplant room lighting to 2700K, which is the color temperature of the sunset glow. The doctor inserted a catheter through the cervix into the uterine cavity, and a white light spot appeared on the ultrasound screen - like a meteor falling on the Milky Way. The whole process lasted for three minutes without anesthesia, but I heard my heart beating in my eardrums. At that moment, the universe was reduced to a speck of dust and fell into my womb.
Day 20-24 Waiting: Turn the days into paper boats
The progesterone oil makes my buttocks hard. I apply it with a hot water bag every day, and turn the waiting time into a paper boat: on the first day, I go to Manhattan beach to write a postcard, on the second day, I go to Getty Center to see Monet's water lilies, on the third day, I learn to make lobster pasta in the home stay kitchen, on the the fourth day, I finish reading Order of Time, and on the fifth day, I turn off the alarm clock to let nature wake up and decide the rhythm for me.
Day 25 blood test: 0.5 milliliter verdict and pardon
The blood draw window is like a toll station on a highway, but the nurse hands over a coconut candy. The report arrived at the email address HCG 268 mIU/mL at 3:07 pm. I stared at the numbers, crying first and then laughing, clutching the candy paper in my palm like holding a pardon.
Day 26-29 Graduation: Listen to Echoes as Waves
The ultrasound probe slid over the abdomen again, and a sesame sized gestational sac appeared on the screen, accompanied by flickering primitive heartbeats. The doctor turned up the volume to the maximum, and the sound of 'dong, dong, dong' was like the tide hitting the shore. I recorded a ten second audio and sent it to my husband thousands of miles away, with the caption: Listen, the Pacific is responding.
Day 30 return trip: Fold 30 days into a heart shape
On the day of the return trip, it was foggy in Los Angeles, and as soon as the plane passed through the clouds, the sunlight shone on its face like a spotlight. I tore off the 30 day calendar, folded it in half and then in half again, and finally folded it into a small heart and put it in my passport book. When entering the customs, the sound of the staff stamping is clear, like pressing "confirm save" for this journey.