19. Suddenly

"Didn't sleep well again last night?" Zhuang Jia asked, fastening his tie and glancing in the mirror at the faint bluish shadows under Yi Yi's eyes.

Yi Yi stirred the oatmeal porridge, the spoon making a soft clinking sound against the rim of the bowl. "Hmm, I've woken up several times." She didn't mention those hazy dreams, in which she was always searching for something, but she forgot what she was looking for as soon as she woke up, leaving only a sense of unease.

“Take a nap during the day.” Zhuang Jia picked up his briefcase, speaking as if it were a trivial matter. “Anyway, you have nothing to do.”

The spoon hovered in mid-air. Looking at the thick porridge in the bowl, Yi Yi suddenly lost her appetite. "I sleep during the day, and I can't sleep at night either. It's a vicious cycle."

"Then don't sleep at night, sleep during the day." Zhuang Jia walked to the door and changed his shoes. "There's always time." His words were like a stone thrown casually, landing on the ground, and no one cared whether it hurt anyone's feet.

The door closed. The room fell silent, save for the low hum of the refrigerator. Yi Yi sat motionless, watching the morning light gradually spread across the dining table. Lately, she'd been constantly tired, a weariness seeping from her very bones, like a soaked cotton coat weighing heavily on her body. Her periods had also become strange, sometimes lingering for ten days on a short period, sometimes disappearing for two or three months at a time. The clock inside her body, which had been running precisely for over thirty years, seemed to have started to malfunction.

She didn't tell Zhuang Jia the details. What difference would it make? He would just say, "Go see a doctor," and then what? Like right now, his focus was on whether she "had time" to sleep, not why she couldn't sleep.

In the afternoon, Yi Yi still went to the hospital. She registered, waited in line, and underwent a series of examinations. The ultrasound probe slid coldly across her abdomen, and the needle for drawing blood pierced her vein. Looking at the labeled blood collection tubes, she suddenly felt like one of the samples, labeled in some way, waiting for a potentially unpleasant analysis result.

A few days later, she sat alone in the examination room. The doctor was a woman in her forties, with a gentle face and a calm, unfazed look in her eyes.

"Let me take a look at the test results... The uterus and adnexa are in good shape, there's a small fibroid, it's not big, just need regular monitoring." The doctor flipped through the report, his tone calm. "Regarding hormone levels, follicle-stimulating hormone and luteinizing hormone are indeed a bit high."

Yi Yi's heart skipped a beat: "What do you mean by 'too high'?"

The doctor looked up at her and said, "This value, combined with your age and menstrual history, suggests that your ovarian function may be declining. In layman's terms, it means you are entering perimenopause earlier than your peers, which is what we commonly call the premenopausal period."

Menopause. Those three words struck Yi Yi like three hailstones, catching her completely off guard. Her ears were ringing, and the doctor's words became somewhat indistinct: "...It doesn't necessarily mean immediate menopause; it could be a few more years... Symptoms include irregular periods, hot flashes, sleep disturbances, and mood swings... If the symptoms severely impact your life, hormone replacement therapy can be considered, but the risks need to be assessed... However, the most important thing is to adjust your lifestyle: eat healthily, exercise regularly, and maintain a good mood..."

“Doctor,” Yi interrupted her, her voice a little dry, “I just…” She sounded like she was stating a fact, but also like she was questioning.

The doctor nodded understandingly, softening his tone: "This is not uncommon nowadays. Work stress, living environment, and genetic factors can all have an impact. It's not a 'disease,' but more like a premature shift in a physiological state. Don't be too anxious; anxiety will only worsen the symptoms."

It's not an illness. It's just getting old. Getting old prematurely.

She didn't take a car, but walked slowly along the street. The early autumn sun was lovely, warm and gentle, yet she felt cold. Her reflection was in the shop window; she wore a well-fitting dress, and her face didn't look old. But what about inside? Some part of it, the part about creation, gestation, and the symbol of life, was already silently sounding the alarm, preparing to leave prematurely.

Her child is only in first grade, and there seems to be a long blueprint for her life yet to be unfolded. She thought she was just taking a short break at a certain platform, but she was unexpectedly told that some of the scenery ahead might have been missed forever, or that the passageway was about to close.

Back home, the house was empty. She didn't turn on the lights, and in the gradually dimming light, she slid down to sit on the floor, leaning against the door. The coolness of the floor seeped in through her clothes. She didn't cry, but felt an emptiness, a boundless, aimless void. Over the years, she had been a daughter, a wife, a mother, the one in the house who always knew where everything was and always kept everything in perfect order. But what about "Yi Yi" herself? The Yi Yi who once brimmed with curiosity about the world, ambitious and eager to prove herself, seemed to have been slowly devoured by these identities. Now, even her body was beginning to betray her, declaring in the most direct way: your time may not be as plentiful as you think.

After some time, the sound of a key turning in the lock came from outside the door, followed by Kai Kai's excited shout: "Mom! I'm home!"

Yi Yi woke up with a start, scrambled to her feet, quickly wiped her face, and the moment the door opened, her usual smile had already spread across her face.

"Why are you here so early today?" She took Kaikai's schoolbag.

"I can run fast!" Kai Kai looked up and suddenly leaned closer. "Mom, your eyes are a little red."

"Just now... some dust got into my eyes," Yi Yi said, trying to cover it up, and turned to walk towards the kitchen. "Are you hungry? Mom will make you stewed beef with potatoes."

"Yay! I love Mom's beef and potato stew the most!" Kai Kai's attention was immediately diverted, and he jumped up and down to watch TV.

In the kitchen, Yi Yi washes rice, cuts meat, and prepares side dishes. Her mechanical movements carry a certain soothing power. Cooking fumes rise, and the aroma of food gradually fills the air. Life seems to have returned to its solid, mundane, and heartwarming track.

Zhuang Jia arrived home a little earlier than usual. Smelling the delicious aroma, she was somewhat surprised: "Why are you making such a grand meal today?"

"Kaikai wants to eat." Yi Yi plated the stir-fried vegetables without looking at him.

At the dinner table, Kai Kai chattered away about funny things that happened at school. Zhuang Jia occasionally chimed in, but mostly kept his head down and ate. The atmosphere seemed no different from countless other nights.

Suddenly, Kai Kai put down his chopsticks, puffed out his little chest, pointed to his neck, and announced loudly, "Dad! Look! I'm wearing a red scarf today! I'm a Young Pioneer now!"

Zhuang Jia then noticed the bright red stain on his son's chest and laughed, "Oh! How glorious! My son has really grown up."

"I'm all grown up, Dad, are you getting old?" Kai Kai suddenly asked, his words innocent and uninhibited.

Zhuang Jia was taken aback, then laughed and said, "Dad is still young! He's far from old."

Yi Yi's hand, which was holding a chopstick, paused slightly. Was it still far off? She looked at her husband's still upright figure and her son's energetic face, then recalled the doctor's calm pronouncement that afternoon. An invisible crack seemed to be quietly spreading under the warm light. She lowered her head, silently taking a bite of rice, the salty taste coming from nowhere.

It was late at night, and Kai Kai was fast asleep. In the master bedroom, Zhuang Jia was already snoring softly. Yi Yi lay awake, staring at the blurry ceiling in the darkness. Her body was exhausted, clamoring for rest, but her mind was unusually clear. All the thoughts that had been suppressed during the busy day were now surging up.

Menopause. Aging. Unfulfilled dreams. Like a self with an ambiguous identity.

She gently turned over, her back to her husband. His warm body was close, his snores even, a peaceful immersion in sleep. She suddenly remembered that evening, sitting on the floor in the boundless emptiness. At that moment, how she wished for a pair of hands to pull her up, for a hug to tell her, "It's okay."

But in the end, she got up on her own, dusted herself off, went into the kitchen, and resumed her role as a wife and mother who acted as usual.

Perhaps, in many such moments to come, she will have to get up on her own.

Outside the window, autumn insects chirped. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting a cold, slender white shadow on the floor. Yi Yi closed her eyes, a tear silently sliding down her temple, quickly absorbed by the pillowcase, leaving no trace.

Tomorrow, when the sun rises as usual, she will still be Yi Yi, getting up early to prepare breakfast, take her children to school, and keep the house spotless. But something has quietly shattered and sunk within her, never to be pieced back together. She knows that from now on, there are some paths she must face and walk alone.