I Had 3 Hours to Decide Whether to Freeze My Eggs. I Had Cancer. And No Partner.

A letter to anyone who might be sitting where I was.

Nobody tells you that a cancer diagnosis comes with homework.

I was 38, single, living alone in Tokyo. I had just been handed a breast cancer diagnosis and a referral letter to a larger hospital — and before I could even figure out how to feel about any of it, my doctor looked at me and said:

“So. Do you want to freeze your eggs?”

I didn’t have a partner. I hadn’t decided whether I wanted children. I wasn’t sure I’d ever decided. And now, on top of everything else, I had to figure that out too — fast, because the sooner we started chemo, the better.

Here’s what I wish someone had told me before that appointment.

1. You don’t have to have it all figured out to say yes.

I said yes not because I knew I wanted children someday. I said yes because a nurse sat down next to me and said something I’ll never forget:

“You don’t know yet how you’ll feel at 40. But if you meet someone, and you want that option — wouldn’t it be better to have it?”

That was enough. I wasn’t choosing to have a baby. I was choosing to keep the door open.

If you’re on the fence: you don’t need certainty. You just need to ask yourself if future-you might want the choice.

2. The timing might be more perfect than you think.

I happened to be coming off my period — apparently the ideal window to start. Within hours of that appointment, I was already in the fertility clinic. By the end of the day, I had a prescription and a schedule.

It felt chaotic. It also felt, somehow, exactly right.

3. If you’re in Tokyo, look into the subsidy. Seriously.

I had no idea until the nurse mentioned it: Tokyo has a financial assistance program specifically for young cancer patients who need fertility preservation. It made the whole thing significantly more manageable.

If you’re outside Tokyo, it’s worth asking your hospital directly — subsidies and support programs vary by region, but they exist more than people realize.

4. Ten years on the pill doesn’t mean you can’t do this.

I’d been on Triquilar for about a decade. I was genuinely worried it might affect the egg retrieval. My doctor smiled and said “You’ll be totally fine” — and she was right.

Don’t let that stop you from asking.

5. The two weeks go fast. Like, really fast.

Daily injections at the same time every morning. Weekly hospital visits. An increasingly round belly. Spectacular amounts of gas. (Nobody warns you about the gas.)

I kept working. I kept doing light workouts — Body Pump with much lighter weights than usual. I ate reasonably well and, by coincidence more than discipline, barely drank.

Turns out alcohol interferes with the medication. I didn’t know that going in, but: noted for anyone reading this.

6. The retrieval day is not as dramatic as you’d expect — until it is.

Early morning. Gel nails off. Anesthesia. Then: done.

I was back home by afternoon. I even went to a work event that evening (alcohol-free, obviously).

What nobody mentioned was the laxative they put through the IV.

I’ll spare you the details. Just know that if you have plans afterward — maybe reconsider. 😂

7. Your body needs more recovery time than you think.

The bloating doesn’t disappear overnight. Nor does the fatigue. I had mild ascites for a few days. Wearing anything with a waistband was out of the question.

My recommendation: loose dresses only. 👗

Full workouts came back around two weeks later. Be patient with yourself.

The result?

8 eggs retrieved. 1 immature. 7 frozen. 🐣

Seven little possibilities, waiting.

I don’t know if I’ll ever use them. But I know that 38-year-old me, sitting in that hospital corridor trying not to panic, made the right call.

If you’re there right now — I hope this helps, even a little.

— Sui

Originally written in Japanese. Translated with the help of AI.