Don't Make Me Go Pharmaceutical

This is what I deal with.  Every day.  With my stupid mail-order pharmacy.  They are bipolar. 

This morning: nurse Bridget calls in my prescription for Crinone.  She then calls me back to let me know it’s called in.

I call the pharmacy, they tell me that, even though it’s a rush, they can’t guarantee shipment before early next week at the latest, but I can pay $12.60 extra for overnight shipping if I want.  Even though that might not go out until Monday or Tuesday.  But I need it by Friday.  Tough luck, says the cranky rep, can’t promise you anything.  You’ll have it likely within a week.

That’s obviously not good enough, so I call the clinic and talk to nurse Chris.  Chris and I go over all of the options (they want you to stick with one kind of progesterone only, so switching it up is not a choice).  They don’t have enough samples to give me more than two.  So we decide that she will call Walgreens and see if they have it available.  They do.  So we decide I will finalize the order with Prescription Solutions and if I don’t have the stuff by Friday, she will call in two to Walgreens with refills, and I can refill, two at a time, until my box arrives.

So I call back Prescription Solutions.

Different rep.

She sees that it’s a rush order and says that she can get it shipped by tomorrow at the latest and will give me free overnight shipping.

What.

The.

Fuck. 

That sound you hear? It’s me. Pounding my head on my desk. Repeatedly.

How In Vitro Destroys the Environment

So since my follicles are being pokey and slow, I have to keep ordering more medication.  Not the end of the world, at $500 a vial I'd rather order it one at a time as needed than drop thousands on stuff I'll never use again.  The thing that's starting to bug me is that every package comes complete with its own styrofoam cooler cube and freezer packs. This wouldn't be horrible if they were a useful size, but really they'd only old four Diet Cokes, max, and that without anything to keep 'em cold.  So they're useless.

Which makes me feel bad about having so many, thinking about putting them in a landfill.  So instead I put them in the basement. 

When it's all said and done, my kid is going to be able to make a kickass styrofoam igloo.

Grounded

So today I had to deal with the Pharmacy from Hell (see last post) and order another $612 worth of medication because my little follicles are taking their sweet time growing.  Reminds me of when I was little and didn't want to do something and I would hang my head and drag my feet and whine until my mom was completely exasperated.

I was lamenting to my best friend, Paula, about my sluggish, petulant follicles via e-mail when I decided enough was enough.  I need to put my foot down.  So, dammit, they are grounded.  Once they are fertilized, they are so not leaving my uterus for at least 38 weeks.  That'll teach 'em.

There Would Be Headlines About a Shooting at a Pharmacy if it Wasn't So Blasted Far Way

Ah, the joys of infertility medication.  It's not stuff you can walk into your neighborhood Walgreens and get.  No, it all has to be done mail order.  No big deal, right?  Call, order, wait for the UPS guy to show up with your giant box of drugs...

It was that simple the last IVF cycle.  Then I learned that the nice, friendly, super easy to deal with pharmacy was out of network.  This time I opted to use the in network pharmacy in order to maximize my insurance reimbursement.

And apparently my headache.

My initial order took them roughly five days to process.  Why?  Because I could not convince them that they could not submit the claim for me.  They kept telling me it was a pharmacy claim, and I explained over and over that it was a medical claim because of how little coverage there is for infertility.  That it was as claim that I had to submit myself after paying for the drugs.  I had my credit card in hand every single time I called, and finally I had to put my foot down.  After ten minutes of arguing with a girl who simply did not want my money, she caved.  I have never had to fight so hard to buy something in my life.  Insane. 

And it didn't end there.

Had to refill one medication.  Called, asked for two vials.

We can't do that.

Why, you ask.  Well, because the prescription is for four vials.  A refill on four vials is four vials.  But I only need two.  Then you'll need a new prescription.  Seriously?  Yep.  *pounds head on desk*  It only took five phone calls.  If that stuff doesn't show up at my office tomorrow, heads will roll.  No matter how far I have to drive.

In the Moment

So here we are.  In vitro round two.  Also known as in vitro last round.  This is it.  Yet... it doesn't feel final.  There is nothing quite like an in vitro cycle for keeping you in the moment.  Seriously.  It's hard to think ahead and plan when you're caught up in a whirlwind of appointments and injections and craziness.  It's all about what's going on right now, not what might happen in a few weeks.

Gonna put this out there and say it.  I feel good this time.  Much, much better than last time.  I think it's going to work this time. Seriously.

It's already going better than the last round.  Eggs are doing their thing and it's not a race.  Everyone's playing this time, it's not just one egg determined to cross the finish line long before the others.  It's awesome go to an ultrasound and see lots of eggs vying for the lead, but no clear cut winner.

It's hard to explain the emotions of an in vitro cycle to someone who's never lived it.  Trying to get pregnant is like a roller coaster.  Every month has the same ups and downs.  In vitro is like that cycle gone bi-polar.  The ups are higher, the crash is worse.  Somehow I am not as up as I was last time.  I remember being almost giddy.  Perhaps it was the newness, the excitement.   This time I just... am.  Hope that's enough.

Feeling Bad About Feeling

I feel a bit like the Grinch today; my heart feels three sizes too small.  I am angry at the universe for so many things.  Upset every time I hear about another person who is having an “oops” baby at my age.

I didn’t choose  to wait this long.  That’s the thing that just kills me.  I didn’t meet my husband until four years ago, and then I had a blood clot that forced us to put off trying for a year while I was on a highly dangerous medication.  I know I’m “old” for trying to conceive.

And I felt absolutely awful when my husband lost it yesterday when we got the negative results because this is all on me.  He’s fine.  I’m the one who can’t do this.  Me.  My body.  It’s the most awful feeling in the world.  I feel… empty.  And mean.

I am such a green-eyed, jealous monster that I almost can’t talk to my friends who recently had babies or who are currently pregnant.  I want so badly to be happy for them, but the jealousy that flares up is almost painful, and then I feel awful for being so selfish.  It’s a vicious circle of not-so-happy feelings.

How do people cope with this? 

Momkey on My Back

My mom has changed her tune.  She has gone from telling me to adopt a crack baby to talking about this time next year when John and I have a baby.

Yikes.

I reminded her (and my aunt) that they only give this about a 20% chance of working.  My aunt replied that the problem with statistics is that humans are not statistics, they're people.

Double yikes.

So... on top of dealing with my own roller coaster of emotions, I suddenly have the weight of familial expectations on my shoulders. 

There is a giant part of me that wishes I could have gone through all of this without telling anyone other than a select few friends.  I am going to need my own time and space to process things, and I know there will be a lot of people asking questions sooner than I am ready to deal with them.  Good or bad news. 

Yes, good news will take some time to process because I will still be apprehensive at first.  Having miscarried at seven weeks, a first positive test won't feel "safe" to me, yet I know my mom is going to go nutty with excitement should we get a positive result. 

It's hard to explain the fit of the shoes you walk in when you do this.  Even my husband fully admits he doesn't understand exactly what I am feeling, and he's going through some of it right along with me. 

Just gotta keep remembering the only feelings I am responsible for are mine.