I have my first appointment with the new IF specialists this coming Friday. I'm so excited! I have all my forms printed out, but they're so overwhelming! I have no idea what all my hormone levels are at various times of my cycle! I can't remember what year my wisdom teeth were extracted! I can't even remember exactly what therapies were all tried, or how many times. Much less, when. (Femara w/ IUI? Femara w/o IUI? Clomid w/IUI? Clomid w/o IUI? etc etc. I don't remember!)
The down side is that we need to be there at 8:45 AM. Kind of a hardship for someone who has a hard time eve getting up before 9. [Me.] Plus we get to wake up the squirt and drop her off at my mom's house first. Joy. My husband's original plan had been to bring her along, when I was asking him if I should take an afternoon appointment a week later so we could get someone to watch her, or what. But after reading their guidelines, they request that we not bring kids, and if we do, to have a caregiver there just for them. Which makes sense. It's hard to listen to the doctor with someone pulling on your pants legs, whining to use your iPhone (she loves her apps!) Plus it's potentially emotionally disturbing for other patients to see you waltzing in with your kid(s.) I know it would have been for me, my first time 'round. I hated seeing people with babies anywhere, but it would have been a harder blow at the clinic, more and more as each treatment cycle kept failing.
I refused to even meet the next-door neighbors because she was pregnant when they moved in. And. I. Wasn't. My husband would talk about them, if he'd run into them outside or something. I'd see her swollen belly as she went inside from her car. I hated her. After the baby was born, they'd come trick-or-treating. My husband would tell me they had come, and I wouldn't know who he was talking about, since I never remembered their names. We'd see them occasionally, if we all happened to be outside at the same time. I rarely spoke to them. Only if DH wasn't around to do all the talking.
We had gotten married in June of '05, and immediately started "trying." By the time they'd moved in at a few months pregnant (late '05) I was getting frustrated. Then she started "showing," just to depress me even more. Then in May '06, when she had a wonderful new little baby, I'd been trying for a whole year. It was over a whole 'nother year before I got pregnant. A year of hearing baby cries through the open windows all Summer. Seeing them going places as a family. Knowing that they had this treasure, one that I might never find.
I got so used to ignoring them that it wasn't until my daughter was old enough to be interested in their daughter that I even learned their names. My husband would be outside with her and the neighbor girl, about 2 years older, would invite her over. They had a slide. And swings. And a sandbox. Our back yard has... weeds. Always dark with shade. Low-hanging branches. I call it "the Jungle."
When their daughter got a trampoline for her 4th birthday last year, I gave in and got to know them. I had no choice. All summer long we could hear them out there jumping and laughing, and my daughter would start yelling (from inside the house) to try and let Appie know that she could hear her and wanted to come out and play. Every day: "I wannto dump on Ap-pee's tramp-a-neen!" Every time we'd go outside, she'd race into our backyard, since our always-open gate is right next to their closed gate, and she only vaguely knew how to get there. She was only barely 2, after all!
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