Friday – Ellen:
She sneaked out of the office on a Friday afternoon. The appointment was 3pm, made more than one month ago. The clinic is in a nearby up-class office building, just 10-min’s walk from hers. Going up in the most advanced model of lift these days, she realized how lucrative this business must be. Facilitated reproduction.
Sitting on the sofa, the endless waiting made her start to wonder why was she there, why did she put herself up for it, was there any more reason than that the cost can be fully covered by her new employer. Maybe there was more reason than that, but nothing she was consciously aware of.
Still waiting. She suddenly thought of something, and started checking on her phone about the regulation, which was the ultimate blow for her when she properly researched egg-freezing at the more biologically sensible age – quite some years ago. Nope. Nothing has changed in all these years. She’d still need to be in a legal marriage to use her own eggs. The three scenarios of her actually using the eggs one day are: 1) move them overseas and impregnate herself there; 2) get a fake husband to trick the system here; 3) wanting children with a real husband, for who knows why. She can’t imagine any of the them happening for real, but still, each probability somehow lower than the former. When she was going through all these in her mind, in the waiting room, she felt, if she acts solely on reason, she would be out of there already. So something made her stay, waiting to be summoned into the doctor’s room. It almost seems, a mysterious part of her wants her to go through this. A quiet submissiveness timidly hidden behind a thick front of cynicism.
– to be continued.
A clean, well-lighted place. 