Today was an *awesome* day, so I decided to sink to the lowest form of wit.
O hai, medical bills! So great to know that my health insurance doesn’t cover my ultrasound to diagnose DOR ($852) or the consultation with a genetic counsellor ($296) or the other $681 unitemized fees that are listed simply as ‘Pending’. Is that for my HSG or something else I’ve forgotten about? It also really warms the cockles of my heart to know that you haven’t gotten to my karyotyping tests–you know, the pre-IVF bloodwork that informed me I am a genetic mutant–which I estimate to be $1,000. All this before I spend a cool $26,000-$32,000 on IVF with the help of an egg donor. AWESOME-O.
O hai, other bills! It’s so nice to see you. Clearly I have more money than I know what to do with. Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to pay you. I mean, it’s not like my husband isn’t slaving away working 80 hours a week to compensate for the fact that, oh I dunno, no one is going to hire me given that I’m an emotional wreck in the middle of a career change who has to dedicate 20 hours a week to infertility woes before proceeding with donor egg IVF sometime in the next 4 months–if I’m lucky.
O hai, Aunt Flo! Thanks for arriving 4-5 days early for the second month running. It’s really great to know that I’m entering the early stages of menopause at the age of 35. No pressure to start DEIVF then. Just dandy that my first donor didn’t work out, because, yeah, I really have all the time in the world to figure all of this out. And, forrealz, don’t worry about the fact that a luteal phase of 8 days means I now have a luteal phase defect. I’m sure my doctors can pump me with enough progesterone to make sure that my DEIVF pregnancy at some point in the distant future (or parallel universe for all I know) will stick.
O hai, Inverted Chromosome 8! Thanks for the built-in birth control. I never thought I would say this, but I’m so glad I’m not pregnant. See, it was after my fertile window this month that I learned that my chances of having a healthy child of my own–whether spontaneously conceived or in a petri dish–is almost nil. It’s such a relief to know I’m not knocked up with a Recombinant child, and it doesn’t hurt me one bit to acknowledge that thought. Besides, it’s more of a relief to know that, were I to conceive again, you’d fix that little problem by having me miscarry over and over and over again. It also feels wonderful to be flooded with these feelings of shame and horror about my genetic legacy. I really enjoy making jokes about being a mutant. I must say, I always hoped I was special, but one in 6 billion? Wow, it is special to be this special. Thank you so very much! Does this mean if I play the lottery I will win? The odds are about 30x better of me hitting the jackpot than having these inversion breakpoints on my 8th chromosome.
O hai, life and the universe! I really appreciate all the learning experiences this year. Me? Need a break? Pshaw, no need! Keep the ejumakayshun coming. I really love seeing all these pregnant women you keep parading in front of me. It makes me feel so good to know that I still have grief triggers and they have a new dimension of complexity to them now I know I will never have a genetic child with my husband. I also think it’s pretty fabulous that the day I decide I’ll go the donor egg route is the day you orchestrate the donor of my choice to get picked by another lucky couple. It never ceases to amaze us how, just when DH and I come up for air and begin to hope that things are going to work out, you somehow, someway manage to throw us a curve ball. I’m just waiting to see what you come up with next. Will it be DH’s karyotyping (another $820, no worries!) that comes back abnormal? Will I go through menopause before I have a chance to have a bio kid? Will I get hit by a truck? No, wait! I’ve got it! I’m guessing I’ll get pregnant and then get diagnosed with cancer or something fabulous like that. Or hell, why not just fuck with me the old-fashioned way and grant me another miscarriage. ‘Cuz I’m just not convinced this year has been enough of a challenge.
O hai, Anxiety! Nice to meet you too! Can we be, like, totally BFFs? I’ve always wanted to be intimately acquainted with someone so “dynamic” as you.
O hai, Hope! Bugger off–anxiety and I are busy performing a puppet show for Universe and Auntie Flo. No, you can’t play with us. Maybe tomorrow if Anxiety doesn’t feel like coming out, but I can’t promise anything.