I can’t post about this in its entirety on the main blog, so I am going to post it here because I have got to get this out.
So…well…that’s it. I do not think we will be pursuing IVF after all. (Hope is in my head, whispering “But tell them that they can laugh at you someday when you do end up pregnant!” – I am going to smack that bitch up soon, I think).
Maybe I’ll end up surprised in the new year, but I think that I would be setting myself up for disappointment. I went into this certain it would happen immediately. I used to do the math – we would start trying in April and I’d be pregnant by June and…ugh, I can’t even do the math to figure out what my due date would be. The April and June referenced above are 2007, by the way.
And then Dr. P said “Clomid or bust.” (I voted Clomid, but it turns out bust was the better choice). And a year passed. And then I said, “Hey, let’s escalate!” and Dr. P said “All clear! And while you’re at it…here’s a specimen cup.” And then the bottom fell out of the market, so to speak (would it have been unclassy to compare it to September 10, 2001? Yes, I think so). And then we got Dr. K and he said, “HELL YEAH! For the low low price of $3000-ish, please!” and I said “Awesome!” and Dr. K’s nurse Jennie said “Here is a month of a birth control pills, call me when you get your period!” and I said “How about I move in and live right here so you’re the first to know?”
And I did all of this because I assumed that when you can get a man to take a specimen cup and TCOB…twice…that means he’s in. That when a man goes to a meet n’ greet and doesn’t faint at the five figure price for (uninsured) IVF that means he’s in. What you don’t expect is – after coming up with a plan for paying for IVF with the help of a generous donor – is him saying “Hmmm, guess we can’t afford to have a kid. Here’s our budget, you subtract your salary (the same salary I’m always saying ‘only goes to pay taxes’) and figure how to pay for a kid.”
And that is when I knew that I Had Lost. This wasn’t him saying “But what about the money?”; this was like when parents say “Maybe” because they want to pussy their way out of saying “Oh hell no.” Simply, he is unwilling. How long has he felt this way?
(Excuse me, but Hope is behind me, jumping up and down and screaming “YOU DON’T KNOW FOR SURE! YOU COULD END UP SURPRISED! MAYBE IN 2010 HE’LL FEEL DIFFERENTLY! MAYBE HE’S GOING TO GIVE YOU IVF FOR XMAS!!! DON’T STOP HOPING!”)
(Would someone please hand me noise canceling headphones or a shotgun or something? I need to shut up Hope).
(It’s like holding on to out of style clothes in the hopes that they’ll come back in style someday. Sure, bell bottoms will be cool again but do you want to spend 20 years with that baggage just in case??)
Fear not, dear reader(s). I’m not going anywhere – hell, we haven’t even touched the topic of “How do I feel about abandoning IVF?”
(Here’s a clue: I FEEL LIKE SHIT)