I feel like I’m sitting in front of Morpheous in a white room.
See, I went to my first RE appointment last night. As you may have gathered from my other posts, I am eager to get this TTC business overwith and be on my way to having baby number 2 already. Sheesh.
I also got surprisingly good news during the day before the visit. My insurance covers everything (except baby juice.) Lifetime IUIs! When I got that news, I felt like wearing a tiara to the appointment and taking a white carriage pulled by six horses, rather than the subway.
I really liked the doctor. Let’s call him Dr. Mug. He was funny and straightforward. We have a little plan. He drew blood and will do the regular fertility blood tests as well as a test for testosterone levels, due to my hairiness (sorry for TMI, but you are on a TTC blog). We’ll do the dye-up-the-tubes test and I’m going to take “The Clomid Challenge!” I laughed and said that that sounds like a reality show. He said it would be televised and A said, “Good, we can Tivo it.” It requires that I go on Clomid for ten days, just to see how my body responds to the hormones. He looked at A and muttered, “She may get a little moody.” Oye! It is bad enough with my regular period. I already feel guilty for snapping at my students, and I haven’t taken one pill yet. Perhaps we’ll delete that episode from the DVR.
Despite the many complaints I’ve heard about the dye-up-the-tubes test, I really want to take it. I hear it flushes out the system. I have two close friends who got pregnant right after the test. I am also very curious to see how my real tubes look. My best friend said it was gross-looking and nothing at all like the flowery pictures in textbooks. When Dr. Mug did a sonagram of my innards, he said that my left ovary was under my uterus. “That’s not how it is in the book!” I said. “Your uterus did not do its required reading.”
Anyway, when discussing this particular test with the nurse, she said that if the dye comes out, that means the tubes are clear. If the dye stays, “that could be one thing that would make you not get pregnant.”
Now, the whole reason I went to Dr. Mug was to make sure I can get pregnant and stop running up my credit card purchasing useless frozen spooge. But do I REALLY want to know that I can’t get pregnant? I’ve been afraid of hearing those words my whole adult life.
Of course I pick the red pill. The truth will set me free, right? But part of me is way more afraid of the truth than I am of hormones and dye in my tubes.