How does it feel?
We've been trying for six years (in fact, this month is our
"anniversary").
Year one... trying without assistance, although we knew we'd probably need help. Year
one started with my measles/mumps/rubella vaccination on new year's eve, and in March I
turned 28 and we officially started "trying." BBTs, a semen analysis late in the
year, and we were full of hope. I didn't get pregnant, but a co-worker two cubicles down
did.
Year two... ob/gyn treatment. Insurance doesn't cover any of it. More BBTs. Bloodwork.
Clomid. Postcoital tests. More Clomid. More semen analyses. More Clomid. "Yes, you're
ovulating." HSG. One heartbreaking cycle when we were sure I was pregnant until I got
my period at work. Endometrial biopsy. Informed in a LETTER that it turns out I wasn't
ovulating after all. Time to see the specialist. We'd been avoiding that step -- it
sounded huge, scary, and expensive. But it also felt good -- like something would really
finally happen. We turned 29.
Year three... the specialist. Lavish office. Expensive suit. Pictures of quintuplets
and a framed letter from a local news anchor thanking the wonderful doctor. PCO diagnosis
-- finally something to blame! More hope. "It's not a question of *if* you get
pregnant, it's a question of when and how." But the unspoken part of that question --
"how much." Clomid. Ultrasounds. More Clomid. No dominant follicles. Let's do a
lap and poke holes in your ovaries. Well, that's kinda scary, but it might work and my
ob/gyn said it would cost about $1200 -- we can put it on the credit card. OK, let's do
it. Dr's billing clerk calls to "discuss the payment plan." Turns out
"payment plan" means "plan to show up with the money." It's going to
be at least $6000, probably more "depending on what they do while they're in
there," and they want it all upfront. So what am I supposed to do, give him a blank
check? We don't even have $6000, let alone the mysterious "more." Insurance
still doesn't cover any of it. Frustration. He'll do an injectible cycle if I want to, but
it seems pointless. So I just never make an appointment and I turn 31. My SIL gets
pregnant -- accidentally of course.
Year four... the worst year. Not trying. No money and no hope. I turn 32. My SIL gets
pregnant again -- accidentally, of course. The woman in the next cubicle, who I thought
was a good friend, gets pregnant and doesn't bother to tell me. I spend six months trying
not to sob at my desk while listening to people gush about her pregnancy. I'm convinced
that a new job will give me better pay or better insurance and I have four interviews in
four months. No offers.
Year five starts with a yearly gyn exam, where I update my ob/gyn on my lack of
progress. She suggests a different specialist -- he's at the university hospital, might be
cheaper, has been very successful with some of her patients. OK, maybe I'll try. I turn
33. And then a miracle -- my insurance is going to cover infertility starting in July! I
make an appointment. I see the new doctor. I really really like him. And I ovulate!!!! For
the first time!!! I'll be pregnant in no time! We start doing IUI. I don't get pregnant,
but my other SIL does. But that's OK, I'm having a lap and ovarian drilling and I'll be
pregnant by the time we see her at Christmas. Except I'm not. And we find out my husband
has a low sperm count.
Year six. We take several months off for financial reasons. Lots of arguing with the
insurance company. And then we jump back in -- injectibles! *This* will be the answer! So
much hope. But no luck. Two cousins and a SIL get pregnant. And I turn 34.
So here we are beginning year seven. We realize now that IUI is not the answer for us,
and we're planning for IVF. We can do at least one, and hopefully have frozen embryos to
transfer, but that's probably it.
How do I feel? Does IVF give me hope? Some, but not as much as I used to get from
starting a new treatment. How does this compare to year two, the year of tests and hope?
How does it compare to year three, the year I thought I was finally moving forward? Every
year I have fewer options and less time. When the only problem you know you have is that
you don't ovulate, how do you know what it will feel like when you finally do ovulate and
yet you still can't get pregnant? How could I as a 29 year old who'd been trying for two
years have any idea what it feels like to be a 34 year old who's been trying for six
years? And now, how can I have a clue what it will feel like to be a 40 year old who's
been trying for 12 years? When I was still paying less than $100 for Clomid, how could I
know what it would feel like to look at our bank statement and realize we could spend all
of this on either IVF or adoption, but we can only choose one? When you have everything
ahead of you, when everything is still an option, how can you imagine what it feels like
when you have tried it all and it didn't work?????
Not trying to start arguments, just expressing my thoughts.
