Our first hop over the international date line

When the invite came on a weekend in mid-December just days after my final egg retrieval surgery, the timing seemed too good to pass up: a wedding in Hong Kong in two month's time. With no more fertility expenses on the horizon at long last, our finances were freed to start having fun. And the opportunity to do just that was handed to us on a silver platter. Direct flights from San Francisco were exceptionally low, so within a few days' time we'd booked our first new country since before the pandemic.

Hong Kong: Nico's first trip to Asia (east of Turkey) and our first time crossing the international date line

The vacation from America couldn't have come at a better time. We may have only been three weeks in to this new presidency, but it's felt like a lifetime. And watching my boss's role in the destruction of America as we know it weighs heavily on me. I show up every day to develop cutting-edge technology that will empower folks with disabilities while I watch the society around me slash funding and protections for those in society who need it most, the same folks I seek to serve. And all the while, I watch the media and the public group my team in with the folks who would see the fabric of our society torn, shredded, and lit on fire so they can watch it burn. In short, it was time for a vacation.

Hong Kong was still celebrating the Lunar New Year for the better part of our stay.

Hong Kong was different. I wouldn't say it's a must-see, but it was a wholly enjoyable experience. We were challenged to conceptualize city planning in three dimensions instead of two. Don't see a crosswalk? Look up. You made it to the location of your restaurant and it decided isn't along this block's sidewalk - did you check the floor on the address? We experienced a city without a public display of squalor and human misery. Was it crowded and in some places showing signs of aging? Absolutely. But did we once see an unhoused person? Heck, did we ever smell urine along any sidewalk ever? Nope. I didn't know you could pack so many people together and not only keep things generally clean but frankly safe. There may be a darker lining, but it didn't feel scary. Local guests at the wedding told us they could drunkenly stumble home at any hour of the night in Hong Kong without concern for their well-being. More than just safe and not scary, there were signs of a people who supported each other: each evening that we walked along the harborfront, we saw scattered pairs of blind runners and their guides, something I'd never before seen outside of competitions. And they weren't just a special running club - the pairs were totally independent of each other. I've never seen such a public commitment to making sports accessible in a city before.

But as I mentioned guests, there indeed was a wedding. And it was, as weddings will be, lovely and personal, intimate, unique, and all-around beautiful. We hadn't even realized our friend Brian was in a relationship until the invitation arrived, so we were thrilled to have the chance to get to know his new wife when they joined us at a Hong Kong rooftop bar the evening after the wedding. She, like her friends at the wedding, was exactly the kind of person we'd befriend, which was such a nice thing to find in our old friend's new life partner. Between the two of them, they hold 4 different passports: American, Korean, British, and Irish. And among this assortment of heritages, it was the Korean that really took center stage at the wedding. After the marriage registry, we were treated to a traditional Korean ceremony where the newlyweds were formally presented to each other, served their parents tea, and caught Korean dates (jujubes) and chestnuts tossed by their parents as a method of predicting how many sons and daughters their union will welcome. (Best of luck to the happy couple of their 25-give-or-take future babies!)

A beautiful and intimate Hong Kongese/Korean/western hybrid wedding complete with tram party around Hong Kong island.

We absolutely ate our way through the week. The foodie highlight was unquestionably Cheung Hing Kee Shanghai Pan Friend Buns, though admittedly not particularly vegetarian friendly. Hashtag B made a killer black sticky rice egg custard tart that I went back for several days over. The French toast (made with peanut butter!) and bottled milk tea at Shui Kee Coffee were a delectable local treat inside a converted warehouse that made us feel like we were locals. And the Shari Shari Kakigori House (admittedly a Japanese dessert place) would have been worth a second taste.

Gustatory highlights: pan-fried buns, Hong Kong style French toast with milk tea, kakigori (Japanese shaved ice), and black sticky rice egg custard.

Between the meals, we hit up most of Hong Kong's tourist attractions. Among the highlights were the sweeping vistas en route to the Tian Tan Buddha on Lantau Island, the fabulously exotic trees in Victoria Park, and the serenity of the Nan Lian Garden & Chi Lin Nunnery. We explored some of the locals' favorites like the "city within a city" of The Mills, a former textile mill converted into mall, community space, and art exhibition center. And we absolutely did not regret the day in Macau, probably our most charming destination. The free pandas exhibit was completely adorable and the streets of historical downtown were surreal: completely Portuguese from the white and gray mosaic sidewalks under our feet to the church spires up above, and yet perfectly Asian from the hustle and bustle to the cuisine to the store fronts. I often found myself wondering who the Portuguese translations on all the signs were really for, as I'm not sure I heard more than a single pair of people speaking the language during the entire day we wandered around the city. Still, it made the city way more accessible for a Westerner to navigate.

The Tian Tan Buddha on Lantau Island was the "touristy" highlight of Hong Kong.

Our day trip to Macau, a Portuguese territory until just 1999, was easily the most charming stop on the week's travels.

Overall, Hong Kong felt like the perfect spot for a Westerner to dip their toes into Asian culture. Every single sign bilingual, nearly everyone spoke at least a few words of English, the public transport was highly functional, and the city, despite its stature with more skyscrapers than I'd ever seen in one place before, was not at all menacing. It wasn't a place to fall in love with, but you could see how folks could build a life here. But before we knew it, it was time to return to the lives that we've built, an ocean away. We traveled back in time, landing hours before we'd lifted off. And the news alerts were there to greet us as soon as we turned off airplane mode. Normal life - or this new normal - picked up right where we'd left off.

A second shot at a once-in-a-lifetime experience

We've hit the Olympic ticketing jackpot: viva Milano 2026!

Paris 2024 felt like a once in a lifetime experience: Witnessing Olympians showcasing the greatest of humanity's physical feats surrounded by energized crowds cheering on fan favorites. It was a moment to celebrate what is best in us, divorced from the messy politics that normally fills the empty space of daily life. Why should we accept that such a wonderful moment has to be once-in-a-lifetime, especially when we know it comes around every two years? It seemed only right that we make the most of our final pre-parenthood years to hit up another round of Olympics, especially as they'll be just south of our country's border, in Italy, where my journey to becoming European began.

As luck would have it, Nico got pulled in the first 30 hours of sales for Milan 2026, so we've officially hit the ticketing jackpot. Next year you'll find us at figure skating (ice dance, pair, and women's), luge, biathlon medals, snowboard big air medals, and Nordic combined medals. Non vedo l'ora!

A year of telepathy

As is the nature when working for such a high profile project, doubly so when it falls under the purview of one of the world's most notable men, discretion around my work is a requisite. I can't speak publicly to my own work or experience. But it makes my heart so full to see our very first users report on the fruit of my and my colleagues' labor. Today, on my 7th anniversary of joining the company, Neuralink published a blog post outlining our first year of our Telepathy product. It's just the beginning of what I hope will be profoundly meaningful technology for people who've been so underserved and deserve much more. It is the privilege of a lifetime and surely the pinnacle of my career to get to be an integral member of this team. I wish the world knew how much we care, how hard we work to serve folks with disabilities, and how much we do right (both technically and through community engagement) behind closed doors.

A ticket to Texas

I entered the era of Trump 2.0 from deep in the heart of Trump country: Texas. At long last, I scheduled my first trip down to the Austin office. (Okay, no so Trump-y turf.) And honestly? I liked it more that I expected. Admittedly, I didn't get to see much of the city itself: there were some long hours in the office. The converted Hatchet Alley has serious early-day Neuralink vibes, but not just for the worst. Whenever a catered meal arrived, we all clustered along the bar counter and connected, regardless of team. I missed the sort of comradery that came from the scrappy small team dynamic. In between the work hours, I got to enjoy the local circus studio and scoped out the Belgian brew scene. The music poured out of bar after bar, upholding the city's lively reputation. The idea of a potential move really got my wheels turning by the end of the week, though perhaps I'm just getting the itch as I roll into my seventh year in California, officially making it the longest stretch I've ever lived anywhere. It often feels like I'm living someone else's dream: California's fine and all, but I could leave it tomorrow and wouldn't look back. My thirties are looking like a solid investment in a life I'll one day want to live. I wish that day would come already.

Snapshots of a week in Austin: a half-mast flag on a snowy inauguration day despite Trump's orders, a drink at Mort Subite, and other images from evenings downtown. 

Some (belated) resolutions

I'm not normally one for resolutions, but I'm also not totally sure what normal means yet. Now that I'm finally free from the shackles of fertility treatments, I'm trying to wrap my head around what to make of myself and my time, at least before we have cash on hand to make something of those embryos. So here are some ideas for 2025:

1. Resume silks and get back into choreography-performing shape
2. Run some more competitive 5k's and get that cholesterol lower
3. Revive the Bay Area Bucket List (thrown together at the start of 2024) to make the most of whatever time is left in California
4. Return to regularly hosting folks at our home, kicking off with chandeleur in just a couple of weeks
5. Travel more:
1. Hong Kong in February
2. New Jersey & PEI in June
3. Los Angeles?
4. Seattle?
5. Milan 2026 - nab some Olympics tickets
6. France around Thanksgiving or Feb. 2026 while in town for the Olympics?
6. Pick back up the pace at work, starting with a long-overdue trip to our Texas office
7. Trim down my well-overgrown tea collection (now that I'm finally allowed more than one caffeinated drink per day) from the current selection of 21 black teas, 1 white tea, 1 green tea, 1 herbal tea, 2 oolongs, 1 pouchong, 1 hojicha, 1 golden matcha, and 10 rooibos. 🙈
8. Consider resurrecting the Christmas card tradition? The jury's still out on this one...

Not sure if I'll regret putting myself on the record on these, but I hope this is the first step to becoming a fully realized person once more.

A fresh start

2025: a new year with so much potential. A full quarter century since my nearly-teenaged self rung in a new millennium to the ball drop in Times Square and the Y2K bug failed to materialize. More than anything, I'm excited for what this year won't be: a fertility year. Nope, my biological clock has been neatly tucked in a freezer. Ovarian reserve - what ovarian reserve? Any of my remaining eggs missed their shot. No, instead of being a disappointingly unproductive fertility factory, I can go back to actually being me: a circus artist; a hostess of board games and social events; a renewed runner; a world traveler; a high-value OG Neuralinker; a caffeinated tea connoisseur; and now, a (knock on wood) future mom.

Enjoying the holidays in the Bay, finally freed from the shackles of fertility treatments and figuring out how to just be me.

2024 wasn't all bad, either. I ran my first 5k race since high school. I got my first US patent! I went to the Olympics for the very first time, in Paris no less. I finally mostly figured out how the nonsensical American health care system works. I got over a childhood phobia of blood draws. I got to be a part of the team that took Neuralink over the finish line into human users. And I made fourteen (or fifteen) genetically normal embryos.

You read that right: since my last update, we got news. So much news. That failed fifth cycle where nearly all the embryos had to be re-biopsied? Turned out all re-biopsied embryos were genetically normal: two girls and a boy. So, though they are unlikely to successfully implant, they're back-ups in the bank.

Feeling mixed emotions over learning all three of the destroyed embryos from our fifth cycle were genetically perfect.

And that seventh and final egg retrieval? We got SEVEN embryos - what a way to finish out the fertility journey. Genetic results came back a few days ago: three abnormal, three normal (all girls), and - get this - one more laboratory accident, something that occurs in less than 1% of samples handled at the new lab we switched to. That final embryo will also have to undergo a drastically damaging re-biopsy for us to learn its sex and chromosomal state. As one of the two day-5 embryos from our final cycle, it's statistically most likely to be normal.

The amazing news? We pulled off three cycles in a row with at least three genetically normal embryos per cycle! Including five day-5 embryos, something we never saw in our first four cycles. And, across all three cycles this fall, seven of the nine euploids were female! Less amazing (besides the fact that the first of these aforementioned cycles' embryos aren't exactly usable): we're still not done with embryo testing. Another embryo returned "no result" even with our new fancier lab, so we have to once more endure a highly destructive embryo re-biopsy to potentially learn we'd had a perfectly good embryo that a lazy embryologist destroyed through a poor biopsy on their first go.

I'm pretty salty about our luck: of twenty-three total cryopreserved embryos, we experienced four "no calls", a rate of over 17% whereas the national average is a mere 2%. Something's fishy in our clinic's embryology department. But when all is said and done, we have six not-rebiopsied euploid girls and four not-rebiopsied euploid boys. The collection includes one 6AA-scored embryo of each sex, and three day-5 3AB embryos (two girls and a boy). Not too shabby. Most importantly, all we could possibly need.

So in 2025, I get to just be me.

A good week

I hate to say it and jinx myself, but there aren't many other ways to put it: this has been a good week. On Monday, mid-girl-chat-text-message, a 415-area-code call came up on the phone. It's hard to ignore the 415s and 510s as they actually might not be spam, so I finished typing, hit send, and picked up THE call. A week ahead of schedule (because the new lab takes extra time), our cycle 6 embryos' genetic report was ready. I nipped off to a call booth, braced myself, and was blown away by the news: All. Three. Embryos. Are. Healthy. And just like that, not only had we met our embryo banking goal of 6 euploids, but even exceeded it. And the cherry on top? Two of those embryos were girls! We now have 3 euploid girls and 4 euploid boys plus a low-level segmental mosaic girl (statistically performs almost as well as a euploid upon implantation), plus any back-ups that might be revealed by the re-testing of our cycle 5 no-calls, plus any embryos we might get from this week's retrieval. Suddenly all the pressure was removed from my upcoming surgery.

Three whole euploid embryos in just one cycle. Two of these are even day 5, the sort of fast-developing embryos normally reserved for youthful non-advanced-maternal-age ladies, thank you very much. That's nearly half of my euploid population in just one single retrieval, and not just any retrieval but the one that had appeared poised to potentially be my worst. Nothing in the world of fertility makes any sense but for once, I'll take it!

Who has two thumbs and can finally stop stressing about whether she's banked enough embryos? (Knocking on wood that I don't regret this statement in years to come.) Table pulled from this scientific journal article. Note: LB = live birth; FET = frozen embryo transfer.

On the topic of the aforementioned upcoming surgery, my body somehow pulled through like a rock star this month. Despite kicking off the cycle with my lowest-ever baseline antral follicle count (the little bubbles spotted in my ovaries that look poised to each yield an egg that month), I power-housed my way up to nearly my highest-ever follicle count at my final monitoring appointment. And my estradiol (estrogen) levels magicked their way into my strongest and best-sustained. Way to go out with a bang, body.

Higher estradiol levels are indicative of a greater number of potential eggs and/or higher egg quality. Feeling like a rock star after Tuesday's final estradiol measurement for this cycle (starred) came in.

And you know what? Today's retrieval—my FINAL egg retrieval—yielded 17 eggs (my new record), 14 of which were mature (also a new personal record). And yes, yes, before I get ahead of myself, high numbers are no guarantee of embryos; if anything, they can just mean a higher height from which to watch your hopes fall. But you know what? With 8 perfectly implantable embryos in the bank with a lovely gender balance, this is all just icing on the cake. It's now time for me to recover—physically, financially, professionally, and administratively (okay, well that last bit will still take a couple months).

Just like that, one day shy of the anniversary of signing my first intake form with Spring, it's a wrap on fertility treatments.

Gotta hand it to him, Santa really delivered just in time for Christmas this year.