Sooo the hubby told me that I needed to at least contact my doctor's office to let them know that my new cycle started. That's what interrupted my high from the caffeine and alcohol binge. The doctor insisted that I come in for a consult. I didn't want to. I already told you about her over-the-top optimism plus, I didn't want to pay her any money.
She forced her staff to find a slot for us today. Per usual, I paid her money to break my heart. Today she informed me that basically the majority of my eggs are rotten. She said if she harvested ten eggs from the average healthy woman of my age, she would expect five of them to be fantastic. In my case, she expects only two will have a chance of being successfully fertilized, implanted and born free of defects (yup, I said defects).
My new thing is to cry over any damn thing, so I got all teary-eyed again. She said we should probably be more aggressive and by that she meant the dreaded IVF. Yay for test tube babies! Because she knows the quality of my eggs sucks, she would want to test the eggs before implanting them in me...if we ever reach that point.
Because I am always counting money (that's what you do when you don't have any), I asked the cost. The estimate? $22,000 for one damn try. I don't have money like that! It would take me another year-and-a-half to save up what I need to reach that astronomical amount.
My perpetually positive husband is all like, "Let's do it!" Pssh! Whatever. He went on to basically say if it was a car, I wouldn't think this hard. I reminded him that if it was a car, I'd know for sure it would run. Plus, the car would have a warranty and a 60-month loan readily available. This crap does not come with a guarantee, a warranty or a reasonable loan. Where will this $22,000 magically come from?
Now that I've depressed you with my whining, here's the positive: At least she was straight foward and didn't string me along. Oh, she also told me not to call my eggs rotten, but I've always been an advocate for calling a snake a snake.
With all of that said, I guess I better start playing the damn lottery. I need to win in oh...like three months.
She forced her staff to find a slot for us today. Per usual, I paid her money to break my heart. Today she informed me that basically the majority of my eggs are rotten. She said if she harvested ten eggs from the average healthy woman of my age, she would expect five of them to be fantastic. In my case, she expects only two will have a chance of being successfully fertilized, implanted and born free of defects (yup, I said defects).
My new thing is to cry over any damn thing, so I got all teary-eyed again. She said we should probably be more aggressive and by that she meant the dreaded IVF. Yay for test tube babies! Because she knows the quality of my eggs sucks, she would want to test the eggs before implanting them in me...if we ever reach that point.
Because I am always counting money (that's what you do when you don't have any), I asked the cost. The estimate? $22,000 for one damn try. I don't have money like that! It would take me another year-and-a-half to save up what I need to reach that astronomical amount.
My perpetually positive husband is all like, "Let's do it!" Pssh! Whatever. He went on to basically say if it was a car, I wouldn't think this hard. I reminded him that if it was a car, I'd know for sure it would run. Plus, the car would have a warranty and a 60-month loan readily available. This crap does not come with a guarantee, a warranty or a reasonable loan. Where will this $22,000 magically come from?
Now that I've depressed you with my whining, here's the positive: At least she was straight foward and didn't string me along. Oh, she also told me not to call my eggs rotten, but I've always been an advocate for calling a snake a snake.
With all of that said, I guess I better start playing the damn lottery. I need to win in oh...like three months.
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