First off, I promise to post an "Adoption Day" post soon. I'm away from home right now, so I can't link to the pics. Suffice it to say, it went well and Asher is officially adopted.
The real reason for this post is to tell you all about the RE appointment I had the 1st. This could get long, so feel free to ignore me.
Before you ask, no, the evil AF did not show her face (and still hasn't, as a matter of fact). I called the day before and asked what I should do. They told me to go ahead and come in and they could probably do it anyway along with the Follistim teaching. So, the three of us sashayed out of the house at 7:30 in the morning to go to my 9:30 appointment. Asher was remarkably well behaved on the trip and ate breakfast on the way. Nick and I had great conversation about homeschooling. It was as great a car ride as I'd enjoyed in quite awhile.
They did end up doing the ultrasound, and I had a great conversation with the ultrasound technician about foster care. It did, however, feel like she was ultrasounding my tonsils when she was digging for my left ovary. It's evidently up really high, as they said it was during the HSG. She ended up having to do an external ultrasound to find it. It is there, though, so that's good. The doctor said there was a small cyst there, but nothing to worry about.
Anyway, when it came time for my actual appointment, they did their usual weighing and vital signs. (My blood pressure is always borderline when I'm there, but it's fine when I take it at work. I even sit there and try to relax beforehand, but it doesn't work. ugh) The nurse, who I loved, did the teaching with me and let me play with the follistim pen. She gave me a big folder of information, which I read every word of during my nearly 2 hour wait at the pharmacy (more on that later). Then the doctor came in. Let me tell you this: there must be a million doctors in this practice, because I've been there a ton of times and I rarely see the same one twice! I did like this guy, though. He might be my favorite. Him or the hippy one I saw awhile back. He talked with me and set out my plan. Of course, I can't start said plan until stupid AF shows up.
The plan is as follows:
- CD 3-7: Femara
- CD 8-10: 100iu Follistim
- CD 11: Ultrasound (where hopefully all will be well and I won't require to get another cartridge of Follistim)
- CD 12 (hopefully): Ovidrel trigger shots (multiple! Because I'm a fatty!)
- CD 14+ (hopefully): Progesterone suppositories
So, the nurse says that she'll send the prescriptions to their pharmacy, because it is usually cheaper there than at "outside" pharmacies. We head to the pharmacy (Ash and Nick had been playing in the waiting room for the maybe 30 minutes it took for the ultrasound and teaching). We get there at 10:40, and only one of the prescriptions has arrived. We're given a pager and told it will go off when they're ready. We quickly realize that Asher is not going to cooperate during this wait, as he is "waited" out. So, I send Nick with him to get gas, assuming that by the time they get back, I'll be done.
Wrong. They drive around for awhile after getting gas, Asher takes a small nap, and I read the crappy magazines they have in their waiting room. Meanwhile, I'm hearing horror stories from my fellow pharmacy prisoners about previous times when they've waited up to 4 hours for medications. 4 HOURS!
By the time it hits 11:45, I am in an awful mood, have read all the information in my folder and flipped through the 2 magazines they have that aren't super stupid. I'd texted my mom, my best friend and Nick. I'd talked to my sister on the phone. I'd contemplated making a scene so they'd hurry up. I'd asked my mom if she'd call in a bomb threat (she said no).
Finally, it hits noon and I get in line to ask about it. The lady says, "Oh. We didn't have one of the medications, so someone had to go down to "general" to get it. It will be a bit." So I say, "I've been here an hour and a half. I have a grumpy toddler in the car." She tells me it shouldn't be "too long." I go sit back down, and 20 minutes later my pager beeps. I cheer aloud and said, "FINALLY!" I go to the counter and tell the lady my name and give her my pager. I hear the pharmacist say, "I'm almost done with it!" I think to myself, "Why did you call for me if you're almost done? Why not wait until you are done!?" After waiting 10 more minutes, they FINALLY called me to the window, where they ask if I have questions and they give me the total: $475.
"Holy Crap!" I say.
"Yeah, I know," the lady says.
With tears in my eyes, I swipe my card. The pharmacist hands me my bag of loot and I tell him, "Well, this has been the most delightful pharmacy experience of my life."
I get out to the car, and I see my wonderful husband and son have gotten me flowers while on their drive. I tell Nick how much the meds were and he tells me it's fine. Then, as we're waiting in the drive through for our lunch, I burst into tears. I cry that my ovaries are dumb, and it's not fair that there are women who brag that all their husbands have to do is look at them wrong and they're pregnant, and why does stupid medco not cover the injectibles? He reassured me that it was fine, we had the money to cover it, and yes, it does suck, but we both know that our infertility has changed us for the better. I concede, and eat my sandwich.
We had decided to make the most of our trip and go to the nearby outlet mall. We spent about an hour and a half there and got a few things for Ash at Old Navy, The Children's Place and Carter's. Asher slept most of the way home while Nick and I had more great conversation about random things.
All in all, it was a good day. It had it's ups and downs, but the important thing is I got to spend it with my boys. There is no better kind of day.