SOME GOOD NEWS, INSURANCE EVEN!

Lawd, it has been so long since I got some good news, I don't even know what to do with it.  Last year, when my $2,000/month COBRA in a mandatory coverage state ran out, I bought an Obamacare plan off healthcare.gov.  I live in a state where nothing is covered, nothing will be covered, and you're on your own bub, with your IVF or whatever you call it.  Expectations were low.

My plan said it covered infertility after deductible.  I bought it, but I didn't believe it.  But I gave it to the girls at the clinic.  They said that each plan has a different requirement to cover infertility.  Well, between a ruptured ectopic, over two years trying, and a failed IVF, I meet the criteria!!!  Actually, just the ruptured ectopic, the rest of this might not have even worked.  So, it looks like my IVF will be covered after my $3,200 deductible!

I'm holding my breath for something to screw up.  Now the clinic has submitted all the forms for a fresh cycle, so we will see what is covered.  I am leaning toward another fresh as long as it's covered.  Pre-approval here we come!  Wow.  I don't know if this is Obamacare or what, but I am just blown away.  I can't believe this just might work.

UPDATE:  played some phone tag, had some scary phone calls.  I was scared for a bit, but it looks like I am 100% covered after deductible because I meet the requirements which were: over 5 years infertility, something about exposure to some chemical, or surgical rube removal.  Bingo.  So, now prior authorization forms.  I guess this is where things can still go wrong.

Still Wandering

I'm still wandering.  Now I'm in another city with a childhood friend.  I agreed to go engagement ring shopping with her, and it was great fun for at least the first three hours to be thinking about something else, be somewhere else, and be in beautiful luxurious retail settings where the lighting is gorgeous, and everyone is so nice.  Not unlike the IVF clinic.

Then, my period started in a lovely bathroom with embossed toilet paper, a week late.  I used three Wondfos in the last week to make sure I was still cool to drink even though I was not hopeful.  Nothing like that is going to happen to me.  40 Wondfos left.  I was cold and fed up, and it felt so meaningless to be shopping for this stupid piece of jewelry for so much money.  I got engaged with a ring bought on the beach in Mexico for $1.

Later that night we had a real talk.  I said it was weird that I've been here a few days and we haven't talked about the obvious thing.  You know, failed IVF.  She said it was weird too, but she didn't know what to do, she didn't know if I wanted to talk about it.  And then she said I was strong.

I'm not so sure I believe that.  I don't feel strong.  I feel red hot anger and jealousy.  I don't feel strong.  I feel like running away.  To Vegas.  To somewhere.

Wandering

I've been traveling since New Year's.  I've been home all of three or four nights out of 13.  Have laptop, will travel.  I've been traveling some for work, and some to just get away.  To sleep on the couch of an old friend.  To be a in a hip, young neighborhood.  To go to a wine tasting with single intellectual people.  To walk the cold streets of cities that aren't my own.  To drink a bespoke cocktail at 3PM.  To feel the love of old friends.  To feel anything.

Last night was dinner with an eleven month old baby and her exhausted parents.  Parents who already suffered my diva behavior when they announced their OMG pregnancy.  I was blank because I couldn't feel anything, and so I had to out myself with my then-recent ectopic nightmare.  Why couldn't I just be normal and say "Good for you!"  "I'm so excited!"  I think now I would be able to fake it somewhat better, but that was one of the first bitter unfairnesses I had to face.

All night cooing over the baby, there was a silent elephant around us.  Granted there were acquaintances there who didn't know about the rest that happened in the last year plus.  Failed IVF.  God, as if I could get any more pathetic.  What are you supposed to say to someone that pathetic anyway?  Such a pity.

We talked about the baby all night.  What else do people talk about?  And then the parents started whining about how to time #2 and I shut down.  I was there, but I was somewhere else.  I think they picked up on this and tried to change the subject.  For sad, barren me.  And they talked about having to fire their flaky nanny instead.  Life is so hard.

Everyone Is Pregnant

I saw my next door neighbor and stopped to chat for a minute, and she's obviously pregnant.  Of course she is.  They moved in within a few months of us, they're our age.  They have reliable vehicles, good jobs with benefits, and a reasonable commute.  They run marathons and ride bikes and have sophisticated dinner parties.  Everything's just peachy for them.

And their bodies work, I guess.  Right next door, just like everyone else.

Now that I'm off the hormones, I can fake it better for other people, but it still feels like a pitchfork through my uterus.  I'm not crying anymore I guess, but I feel this new, deeper, more jagged jealousy that feels it is becoming boiling anger.  I am so angry at my fucking body.  I'm angry at a fucking failed perfect IVF cycle.  I'm angry at all those injections for nothing.  I'm angry at dozens of scans.  I'm angry at the universe.  I'm angry at this break.  But I'm especially angry at pregnant women.  Like this red hot anger that coats my life with an angry cloud of smoke.  It makes my whole life feel gray and dark.  It's just not fair.

I told my sperm donor our next door neighbor was pregnant and he said "Don't get all crapped out."  He didn't even stop watching TV.

Men Are the Silent Sufferers of IVF

I don't quite understand what happened to my sperm donor after IVF failed and he lost his major client within a few days.  He completely shut down.  He is normally constantly bossing people around on the phone, and he just didn't care anymore.  We didn't talk about much.  I was ranting about Vegas, and he wasn't talking about anything.  He was watching Pawn Stars or some other garbage for days on end, but he wasn't here.

Today he showed up with a new car.  He traded in his small SUV for a two-seater convertible that cost more than both of our previous cars combined.  I like convertibles, I like this convertible, it's a gorgeous car, and we can afford it, but this is so out of character and he didn't even talk about it with me.  He said it will be at least a year until the baby, and he wanted to get a completely impractical car now.  "Last call," he called it.

Sperm donor also got really, really drunk on many, many occasions, staying out late with the guys, even going missing a couple nights.  I was too wrapped up in crying/the flu/feeling sorry for myself.  He told a bunch of his friends about the failed IVF.  Bros.  The kind of guys I definitely do not want discussing my IVF.  God.  One of them helpfully suggested we could just pay someone to bake the frozen eggs.  Gee, thanks.

This all brought me back this awesome post on Manju's excellent IVF blog that covers so much I wish I'd known before I started.  (She's been at this since 2008, with a billion rounds of IVF and sadly lost a set of twins.  She is just so brave!)

Men suffer in silence with IVF.  I have a few women I cried on the phone to or collapsed into a hug with.  People texting me to see if I'm ok.  I can whine on my blog, I can whine on the phone.  But not him.  I was too deep into myself to be there for him either.  Who's there for him?  I don't know how deep his hurt goes.  I don't know how it feels to see another damn baby announcement.  He doesn't say things like this out loud.  But he bought a new car.