It’s a sign of the times. The economy must be ticking up around here because houses that had previously sat vacant and unfinished are now for sale. Homes that didn’t exist a few months ago are getting finishing touches. It’s put builders and painters and electricians and roofers back to work. And plumbers.
Which leads me to today’s mixed metaphor. In our scenario, I’m technically the only one who will be doing the cooking of our future babes. But I need a little help with the recipe, and we’re currently missing a key ingredient.
Also, it turns out, we need a remodel of the whole damned kitchen. Especially the plumbing.
I saw Dr. C today. He’s the one who tends to my plumbing and will eventually be the one putting one or more buns in my oven. Turns out, he also has opinions on Hubby’s plumbing. Despite the fact that a year and half ago, when we were seeking help from someone other than Dr. K, he was reluctant. Today, he tells me that he’s actually treated men with Hubby’s condition. Really? Where was this information a year and a half ago?!
So now, I’ve become general contractor of our family building project. Which plumber do I trust? The one who is the local expert (Dr. K, fertility urologist extraordinaire)? The one who has years of experience (Hubby’s main man back home, Dr. S)? Or the one who suddenly has all the answers, despite telling us a while back he wasn’t particularly comfortable handling men’s junk?
I’m so confused and a little frustrated now. Especially since Dr. C had the nerve to tell me that he doesn’t think the dosage or frequency of injections matter. What the what? Then why are we spending 3x what we would be had we stuck to Dr. K’s original game plan? And he thinks we should go ahead and do an SA now. Because at $250 a pop, we can so afford to just do an SA whenever we feel like it. Grrr.
Hubby couldn’t come with me today. I came home from work and filled him in, and he helped calm me down a little. He votes we stick to the plan we’re on now, especially since we paid for a year’s worth of office visits with Dr. K up front for a discounted price. Which means our next SA will be next month. Which is fine.
Also fine: me, according to Dr. C. He was very optimistic today, quoting me the clinic’s 75% live birth rate (not pregnancy rate, live birth!) for women my age. I’m assuming that means under 35. I’m much closer to that cut-off than I’d like to admit or even think about. He gave me a full exam, which meant getting up close and way too personal, including another encounter with the trans vag invader. Shockingly, Dr. C also took a page from Dr. S’s book today, saying it’s possible we could conceive naturally. People really need to stop telling me this because it will make me crazy.