Close Encounters of the Jackass Kind

On Friday I started spotting and called the Clinic, fearing that we might miss our window if I actually waited for red blood flow like a normal person. Thus, Dr. A. wanted me to drive up for an ultrasound on Saturday.

Fortunately, my sister came into town on Friday afternoon and since L. was working, we made the drive together on Saturday morning.

I lost track of the speed limit somewhere between discussing her latest male conquest and the injustice of her friend who got a girl pregnant during their 2 month relationship which has subsequently ended in paternity testing and attorneys (EERRGGHH!! Stories like that drive me mad!!!).

When (20-something) Mr. Cop Jackass pulled us over, I began inwardly perseverating over how long he was going to detain us and whether or not I would make the appointment on time.

Mr. Cop Jackass: "Good Morning. Where are you ladies headed this morning?"

Me: "We're going to the Clinic."

Mr. Cop Jackass: "Oh, well, what takes you to the Clinic?"

Me (Seriously consider telling him it was none of his damn business, before my fear of a $200 ticket in addition to the $300+ for today's ultrasound overtook me, making me a bit of a pansy ass.): "Ummmm, infertility treatment."

Mr. Cop Jackass: "Oh, so nothing emergent."

Me (Uhhh, dude, I turn 35 less than 3 months, so it sure feels emergent to me): "Well...actually, it is pretty emergent."

Mr. Cop Jackass (with only the faintest flash of embarrassment): "Well, I'm going to let you off with a warning this time, but you need to slow it down."

YES!!!!

I'm sure Mr. Cop Jackass was inwardly applauding his own virility, thinking IF would never happen to him and his super masculine sperm, but at least he found it in his heart to let me get to my appointment, without adding another $200 to the debt pile.

The ultrasound showed that my lining (12) is too thick for meds, and it needs to shed.

A.F. swooshed in around 11 p.m. last night.

I'll call for next steps today, but I'm sensing re-entry into the IVF Funhouse.

IVF: The Hard Sell?

On Monday I called IVF Clinic #3, an operation that just opened in town. The Clinic is new, an offshoot of a larger clinic about an hour away, poised to take over this City because the clinic here (IVF Clinic #1, whom we fired long ago) truly sucks. (Our Clinic is 2 hours away, and going there was a very calculated decision after much consternation and research).

I called the office manager simply to ask if this new Clinic would be willing to take care of my monitoring. My empty uterus is tiring of hanging out in the OB waiting room alongside at least 20 pregnant bellies, all belonging to starry-eyed fertiles anticipating their magical moment ahead with the vagina cam.

Clinic #3's office manager, Michelle, was more than happy to respond to my request.

Before I knew it, Michelle spawned into a female version of Herb of WKRP fame, trying to sell me a used car. She proceeded to insult my current doctor, insisting that it would be "so easy" to fire Clinic #2 and use her clinic instead for our IVF cycle.

Me: Well, I'm not sure how we feel about switching at this point in the game, and our Clinic has a really renowned reputation.

Michelle/Herb: You know, Leslie, you all have dealt with a lot of setbacks with this. Maybe it was all meant to be - we're up and running and would be much closer to you. Maybe you were meant to go through IVF with us.

Me: Again, I just wanted to talk about ultrasounds and bloodwork. And, my husband is working late tonight. I'm not going to make any decisions without him.

Michelle/Herb: Really, Leslie, I can get you in with one of our docs first thing in the morning. Let me go over our price list with you.

Me: Goodbye.

I hung up the phone feeling violated. What kind of an idiot do you think I am? We spent months researching Clinic #2, and yes, Nurse Nightingale made a critical mistake last cycle. But, how stupid (and vulnerable) do you think I am?

Okay, I may be vulnerable and infertile, but I'm not an idiot.

Needless to say, looks like we're sticking with the OB-GYN.

Seeing the shrink tomorrow, and looking forward to it.