The Birds and the Bees

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I woke up early today as DH is on call and had to troubleshoot some computer problem. His ringtone is really super loud, and there is no going back to sleep after it explodes in my ear.

So I used that time to think about the bees.

In the weird twisted way my mind travels, it made me feel a little bit better that it looks like we are going the Childfree route. I’ve never been one of those preachy environmentalists or a militant childfree activist that thinks by having a baby, you are just dooming them to death and despair. But it got me thinking.

I also got a response back from one of the two IVF clinics that meet my needs (a recommendation from my RE and NOT the Houston Fertility Institute. Seriously, if you just wandered over here to this page because you were googling HFI, please rethink. I’ll write a post in the near future over why I refuse to be seen by them, but in the meantime, find a new clinic.

In any case, the initial appointment with the clinic is going to cost us $200. That’s just to find out what we need and how much it will cost us. Let me repeat for emphasis: It’s going to cost us $200 to find out how IVF will cost us. And I’m not even sure I’d be GOING to that clinic. How can I shop around and find the right clinic for me if it’s going to cost me as much as an IUI (if I go for a consultation at two clinics) before I even START treatment? I am now pretty particular with my doctors. I want to find the right fit. I am not going to waste my money by handing it over to someone I don’t like.

That $200 really pisses me off. More than the thousands of dollars I’d be spending on IVF. To me, that $200 is a kick in the teeth. An insult. Seriously, after all the damn money I’ve spent on fertility over the past four years, you want to milk me out of ANOTHER $200?!?! For what? An hour long wait in the reception area for you to tell me what I’ve already figured out on the internet, from my friends, and from my own experiences?!?

I knew I was going to pay – these fertility clinics don’t give a shit about my family – they only see me as cash patient. An inconvenience. They don’t look at me as a person – they only look at my age and test results.

I think I am getting to the point where I am no longer jealous of parents – I just despise them. I don’t want to hear about your children, or your childbirth experience, or your pregnancy symptoms. I don’t care. I roll my eyes when my students talk proudly about being parents, and I just leave the room when co-workers and friends talk about their children. It’s isolating. It’s kind of like that one year when everyone at work watched Dancing with the Stars, or The Real Housewives, and I didn’t, so while everyone else participated in the conversation, I just sat on the sidelines, unable to comment, not belonging.

That’s what it’s like being infertile in a room full of breeders, except this is way more personal than some rich woman’s fake tits or elimination time.

The thing that bothers me the most is when people flat out say that because I’m not a parent, that I’m don’t understand things. They don’t come right out and say that, but they’ll say things “when you have kids, that’s when you really get what love is.” Thanks for just saying I don’t know love. Thanks for just demeaning my relationships and my family.

Argh. This whole post is just starting to piss me off even more, so I’m just going to stop while I’m ahead before I end up sound like a bitter, barren woman.

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2 thoughts on “The Birds and the Bees

  1. I don’t watch tv either…I feel the same way you do. I am surrounded by breeders! At school all women, bleck. I too feel like an outcast. Someone who doesn’t fit it. Someone no one wants to be around. What if I’m contagious?

    Big hugs to you. I hope you can enjoy your long weekend.

  2. I, too, feel like I’m surrounded. If this whole thing doesn’t work out I’m figuring out how I can just go live in a cabin in the woods.

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