Our test results are in and everything looks good. Yay! But I'm still not pregnant. Boo! We were referred to a fertility specialist, Atlanta Center for Reproductive Medicine (ACRM). This was pretty tough to swallow, but after a good long talk with B, a pep talk with my BFF and three very good and diiirty vodka martinis I was feeling better about the whole situation. After a year of "be patient" and "don't stress" I was anxious for someone to figure out the problem and solve it already.
Our first appointment was literally two days after I called, which was a good thing because I didn't have time to overanalyze all the emotions running rampant inside me. The night before the appointment B and I were filling out the 15 pages of paperwork and we started talking about adoption. If it came to that, where would we shop for a kid? After much debate we decided we'd get a kid from Asia because being Jewish, soy sauce runs in our blood.
We got to our appointment promptly at 8am where we were handed yet another stack of forms to fill out. The office was packed. Every seat was taken with good looking, young couples. I was surprised. I expected a dark, dungeon where they stick all the fertility-challenged folks, but the office was well lit, nicely decorated and every single couple was beautiful. It was like walking into a JCrew catalogue. B and I definitely didn't fit in. Just as I was thinking this, B took the opportunity to point it out by saying quite loudly, "Where are the other ugly couples?" har har. The more women I saw coming in and out of the exam rooms, and filling seats in the waiting room the more comforted I was. I wanted to shout out, "There are others like us! We women can do this together! Your shoes are fabulous!"
Soon we were sitting in the doctor's office looking at various charts and graphs while the Dr went on and on about percentages and other stuff we didn't understand. What I still can't grasp is that I have "unexplained infertility." WTF is that? After all the testing and waiting and researching, the diagnosis is "Beats Me." How do we work with that? We were also told we have a 6% chance of conceiving on our own. B did not believe the Dr and told him so. B then diagnosed us with not having sex every minute of every day and thus not getting pregnant. The Dr explained that every male who comes into the office says the same thing, but that is not the case. B continued to disagree. I guess sometime in the last 8 years we've been together B acquired a medical license without my knowledge. It was embarassing. They finally came to an understanding but I know B still thinks he's right.
We decided to try insemination. This entails my getting bloodwork every week, ultrasounds, taking a medicine that's notorious for making women crazy (because I need anymore of that), and finally another catheter shoved up my hooha full of B's junk. Sign me up!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment