Joey’s playing Hordes of Orcs (yes, you read that correctly) for the second day straight. And singing along with Switchfoot. I am laying awkwardly on the couch because my iTouch is charging and I can only reach it if I lay at a moderately uncomfortable angle, but I’m in the middle of Oregon Trail so I can’t stop. (Becca is trail boss, I am #2, and Joey and Luke are the annoying kids.)
My phone rang, so I had to do this weird twisting action that I can only keep doing for another week, so I’m living it up while I can, and answered the call, slightly out of breath because of the weird angle with which I was laying on my diaphragm.
“Hello?” I wheezed.
“Hello, this is Kimberly from Freedom Pharmacy!” Chirped a super, super enthusiastic voice.
Ahhh, Freedom Pharmacy – the pharmacy for those of us who must have our children pre-fertilized and floated in via plastic tube. YES, Americans, they have an entire mail-order pharmacy dedicated just to us. They are amazingly efficient and resourceful and nice, too. Actually, every infertility person I have dealt with in the last few months has had rockstar demeanor. I think they expect us to be just a little unstable.
Anyway, Kimberly wanted my credit card info so she could charge my copay for the $6,500.00 worth of shots.
“And your co-pay total will be $125.00!” She exclaimed. ”Do you have your card ready?”
“No,” I huffed, crawling (literally) from my weird, weird, weird position on the couch, and stumbling over to the table by the door where I keep my purse. I got back to the couch with much more grace and flopped down and began to read her the numbers.
“Thank you!” She gushed. ”Let me read that back to you to make sure I kept up!”
She had kept up, and I told her so. I could just sense money being sucked out of our account as she read the numbers back correctly.
Then I confirmed the shipping address because, surprise!, they don’t just drop the box at your front door if you’re not home. You have to sign for it. That’s a really, really good thing, too. I don’t imagine you can get high off ovary stimulants (you can rest assured I will NOT be trying), but surely they have some kind of street value. I’d be so mad if someone stole my baby making medicine.
Ew. I cannot believe I just typed that on my blog.
Anyway, two more days of the setup pill, then on Tuesday morning I have my first ultrasound in the series. Then…Saturday evening…SHOOT ‘EM UP!
I really am ready to get this show on the road. I want to get it over and done with, that way if it doesn’t work I can be done with thinking about it. And if it does work? Then I can get on with that too.
I told someone at church that I’m cautiously optimistic about this whole thing right now. Heavy on the “cautiously” part, though; I can barely risk any more emotional energy to be optimistic. (That’s what I need people like Bianca for, and I really, really appreciate the support!!) It’s probably a defense mechanism, and probably common with IVF patients.
The whole “we’re doing IVF because we can’t have kids” thing still really weirds me out. I half think in the back of my mind that this is all just a bad dream I really am fine, just like I spent the last 27 years of my life thinking I was. But, no…I already woke up from the anesthesia. This is no bad dream, it’s how it is.
And you know what else makes me mad? All that money we wasted on birth control for all those years. Total ripoff – we should get our money back.
