*Disclaimer* Obviously some medical information is contained in this post.
Don't get me wrong, I did pay attention to most of the presentation and let me just say this: there should be a test before people are allowed to procreate, particularly in a controlled setting like a fertility clinic.
|Let's play Guess That Embryo!|
Who does this embryo look like?
Random Dumb Dude: "How do you make sure you don't mix up the specimens?"
Random Dumb Dude: (And I swear he actually said this) Well, all babies look kind of alike so I assume that all embryos look kind of alike. How do you make sure that you transfer the embryos into the right uterus?
Doctor: "We label everything. Several times and in several different ways."
What I wish my doctor had said was, "You, sir, are too stupid to have children. Please leave now."
So basically this guy is under the impression that the embryos are running around looking anything like their eventual parents and that's how the lab technicians figure out which embryos belong to which couple. I told Husband that I'm going to make it my mission in life to accidentally have Random Dumb Dude's baby.
Husband agreed that would be awesome because (1) it would be freakin' hysterical and (2) he would be able to stay home and watch baseball rather than going back down to our clinic to make a "deposit" of his own.
Thankfully that was the only truly stupid question of the night and the seminar ended without further incident.
Onto step two of the IVF process: an individual meeting with our doctor.
We did this on Wednesday afternoon. I like my doctor a lot and he let us call the shots on a few issues that I thought he might push back on (i.e. the number of embryos to transfer). My suspicion is that Husband wooed him a bit with his questions about success statistics. The doctor was basically chasing us down the hall to give Husband the most up-to-date though not-yet-published statistics from the clinic. I told Husband that he was probably so excited to be asked intelligent questions as opposed to "Where do babies come from?" (Random Dumb Dude, I'm looking at you) that he wanted to extend the conversation as long as possible!
|This embryo appears to be in disguise.|
Can you figure out who it belongs to
or are you stumped like Random Dumb Dude?
My diagnosis is Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome which basically means that I don't always ovulate. When you don't ovulate, there's no trigger to start your cycle so I tend to go anywhere from 35 to 65 days between periods. I reminded my doctor of this and he agreed to write me a prescription for Provera to trigger my period. He then ordered some blood work to determine if I had ovulated this month.
About an hour later, the nurse called me at home: I had ovulated.
Of course I had! The girl with the condition that means she doesn't ovulate always ovulates the month when she needs an extra week before she gets her period. It's like the plot of a bad made for TV movie.
I spent about an hour on Thursday on the telephone with three different people from the clinic: the insurance liaison, Nurse A, my doctor's lead nurse, and Nurse B from the IVF team. They all agreed that Husband and I could take the training online and made a note for the training nurse (Nurse C) to call me on Saturday.
Just when I had that all resolved, I got a phone call about one of my cases. It was one of those situations that I had known for months was hanging by a thread. There were two possibilities: we'd get the case dismissed before the sh*t hit the fan or we wouldn't. Late on Thursday afternoon, I had confirmation that we wouldn't and on Friday, we had to go to court.
After numerous conferences with attorneys, appearances in front of the judge, and conversations with my client, I came to the realization that my client wasn't going to be leaving the courthouse with her 8 month old child. As we walked out of the courtroom, I explained this to her and predictably, she burst into tears. She started crying, the father started yelling, and the baby, in her mom's arms, stared at me wide-eyed obviously not knowing what was happening.
And I lost it.
I could tell for about twenty seconds before I started crying, that I was going to start crying. I tried the relaxation technique that my therapist had recommended (breathe in through the nose "Time" and out through the mouth "Out"), but it was too late.
Because the father was yelling, several security officers came running to where we were standing. I can only imagine when they saw him yelling and me crying, that they thought he had attacked me because they all rushed to me first. I shook my head to let them know that I was fine. Then I realized that if I wanted tissues, I had to go back into the courtroom, thus exposing myself to even more people who would have no idea why I was seemingly taking this so hard.
It was awful. Of course, it was awful for my client, but (and I know this sounds a little cold) I've been through this exact situation before and I was fine. On Friday, it was something about everything that we've been going through that just hit me...hard.
After I calmed down, and calmed my client down, I went back to my office, where I promptly started crying again. Then when Husband got home that evening, I had my third cry of the day. I swear there's no way I have any tears left!