The mouse is dead. Repeat: The mouse is dead.
Upon arriving home from our weekend stay on Long Island, I discovered the mouse that has been plaguing our apartment throughout my two-week wait was in fact dead. I don’t usually make it the habit to enjoy the demise of a living being. However, I couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of accomplishment to at least achieve one of the goals I set for myself in the recent week.
Kill the mouse. Check.
Listen, I’ll take any victory I can get right now people.
Also, today, I managed to actually get some money back from my prescription plan. Initially, my doctor had me taking progesterone three times a day. When I told him that I was still experiencing cramping, he told me to start taking it four times a day. The trouble is my prescription plan was never notified of the change, so when I ran out of pills and needed a refill, my pharmacy said, “But you should have pills left.” I explained the change in the dosage and the reasoning but they, the compassionate entity that they are, made it clear they could give a sh*t. They said I needed to pay them $300 out of pocket if I wanted my pills.
Here’s what I don’t get: Do they think I’m taking progesterone for kicks? Or that I’m going to sell them as a second income? Last I heard, the street value of progesterone is a big fat zero so why they were holding my hormones hostage was beyond me.
After a heated debate, I gave up, paid the money and silently vowing that although they had won this round, I would win the next one. So, when I spoke to them this morning, after casually mentioning that I have an Uncle Vinnie, they suddenly understood my plight and are going to credit my account. Every girl dealing with a bitchy insurance company should have an Uncle Vinnie.
Get my money back. Check.
As we found out over the weekend, I didn’t even need the progesterone as the IVF didn’t work. I can now add it to my collection of “left over” medications: Gonal-F, steroid patches, and now, progesterone pills. I’m thinking of giving them as Christmas gifts this year. Hey, they weren’t cheap. They’d be the most expensive gifts I’ve ever given anyone.
And, of course, the big question: What’s next? We’ve tried pretty much everything available to us and at present, we’ve exhausted both ourselves and our finances. If we were to do another IVF, it wouldn’t be until we were able to pay for it on our own, and that wouldn’t be until the end of the year. This makes my doctor nervous as I’m going to be thirty-seven in a few months. He seems to like to throw that fact in to all of our conversations as often as possible almost as if I’ve forgotten how old I am. I know it’s not ideal and we should be able to do it sooner but unless he’d like to treat me to an IVF, the reality remains that I can’t afford one. Suck on that.
We can try more inseminations so that’s an option, but for now, it looks like we’re just going to go back to the ol’ fashioned way for a month or two, not think about it and hope for a freaking miracle. I guess you could say that my “two-week-wait” is now officially terminal.
If my “Operation Kill Mouse” plan worked though and I was able to threaten my prescription company into giving me some money back, then who’s to say there’s not some other small victory waiting around the corner. Dead rodents and playing the mafia card may ring as sad little accomplishments but I’m counting them anyway. Perhaps they are signs that the tide is turning is for me. Well, either that or I really need to take up a healthy hobby super soon.
So, as they say, onwards and upwards. Tonight, I’m getting a hair cut in the hopes that it will make me a totally new person. Preferably one who is fertile. Any which way, I’ve got a message for my reproductive organs: I’m not giving up. Do you hear that uterus? Are you listening ovaries? You’d better get on board and make this happen! Did you see what I did the mouse? Do you want me to call my Uncle Vinnie? You just think about that you lazy bastards the next time some sperm is coming towards you! Fertilize and implant damn you!
yaay for dead mouse!! my mom told me a while back that my hair is not helping my fertility. that is, since my hair is soo long, that it's taking up all the nutrients from my body and thus, essentially leaving me fertile. i had been thinking about chopping off my hair until she said this, but now JUST to prove a point, i'm on a mission to grow my hair to my ankles AND get pregnant. or, at least that was my mission, but now a little part of me that knows my mom is always right is telling me that perhaps it couldn't hurt to go cut my hair?? i'm not sure where i'm going with this, except to say *happy hair cutting!!*.
i've had a few yelling episodes with my insurance company in the last year. bc i HAVE to take out my fertility woes on *someone*, i secretly get a thrill out of yelling at them and then eventually getting my way. pretty sick, huh?
anyways, *fingers crossed* that you get knocked up naturally while waiting for next ivf. hey, i hear it happens to *some* folks, so why not you?? :o)
ding dong the mouse is dead. Yeah for Vinnie and you should think about switching REs and going to one that accepts the NYS Grant… that's right, you heard me – NY State has a grant program for infertiles. Here is the link… maybe this is the "miracle" you needed, hey, ya never know! http://www.health.state.ny.us/community/reproductive_health/infertility/demonstration_program/
Sienna — That story about your mom is TOO funny. Those are moments you can't make up. And thank you for the knocked up wishes
Baby bumb bound — Who's a genius? You, that's who. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS. I'm totally going to look into it. Bless your heart. 🙂
Good for you for getting them to cover your progesterone. That is so annoying when pharmacies are a pain. that is just what we need, more crap to deal with on top of everything else. Did you really insinuate you have an uncle vinnie?