This part is better told from her side.

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I remember the numbers didn’t come all at once.

It was one by one.

First, they told me how many eggs were retrieved.
Eight.

At that moment, it felt… okay.
Not a lot, not too little.
Just something to hold on to.

Then later,
we found out only three were mature.

I paused a bit when I heard that.
But I didn’t say much.

I think inside,
I just adjusted quietly.

From eight… to three.

After that,
we waited again.

And then,
only one made it to day 5.

That number felt smaller.
Of course it did.

But somehow,
I didn’t let myself go too far with it.

I didn’t think, “this is bad”
and I also didn’t think, “this is enough”

I just received it as it came.

Each update…
just slightly changing something inside me.

Not in a big way.
Just small adjustments.

Looking back now,
I think that period wasn’t about the final number.

It was about learning how to
keep going,
even as things slowly became more uncertain.