Friday, August 23, 2013

shit... we've gotta get your sperm out of there.

Let's break this down quick so you all can get up to speed:

  • There's been high drama at my clinic. The RE was very ill and they flew a doctor in from across the country to do IVF in August.
  • Our IVF failed - we did not even make it to retrieval. I only produced 4 follicles. Aforementioned doctor from across the country (DFAC?) was not there when this happened. The NP and PA both reviewed our files and concluded that we could "do better" and sacked the cycle.
  • We have a meeting with DFAC a week later. He tells us that with diminished ovarian reserve he doesn't think we can honestly expect to do better than 4-6 mature follicles and he would have advised us to go ahead.
  • My head explodes
  • I express frustration at a support group run by the clinic.
  • Nurse from support group calls me the next day. Gets defensive, tells everyone in the clinic what I said in support group (and I do mean everyone - on a later call back the receptionist knew). Insists we meet with the original doctor who is in recovery and beginning to see patients (side note: I saw him out in the real world the previous week, he doesn't look like he should be retrieving eggs from the grocery store).
  • We feel like we are being sent to the principle's office.
  • That night, we lit a big fire in the fire pit and talked for about 6 hours. Big things discussed and we realize that not only do we have no desire to meet with Dr. Burrito , we both want off this crazy thing.
  • THE DECISION to stop treatment is made.
  • Meet with my therapist today and remember that they have some of my husband's sperm. Realize we need to get it the fuck out of there.

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