So while I’m starting this blog at the dawn of our IVF adventure, we’ve been at the whole trying to get pregnant business for quite some time. I met my husband at my 38th birthday party and we married almost three years later. A few months after, embarking upon our Hawaiian honeymoon we also opted to embark upon….trying. You know, the Trying that people talk about with a wink and a knowing nod……mostly people in their 20s and 30s, but let’s not quibble. That was about 18 months ago – much has happened, much has been learned, and much has been pondered.
At the time I was on my own health insurance, which had limited coverage regarding assisted fertility of any kind. I did four cycles of Clomid, then we went to a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE) and did 2 IUIs (artificial insemination) with even more Clomid – which gave me my first taste of hot flashes, not a welcome tap on the shoulder of inevitable lady fun yet to come. That first RE I went to was an old stodgy man who did little more than write teeny tiny percentages on a piece of paper and basically tell me I had a rat’s chance of conceiving based exclusively on my age. As of fall I found myself waiting to get onto my husband’s insurance and so took to chilling out, starting some supplements and doing weekly acupuncture (more on supplements and acupuncture in a future post).
To back up a hot second, as of February/March of 2012 I started doing ovulation predictor kits (OPKs) every month and eventually added taking my basal body temperature (bbt) each morning (also to track ovulation) – cause ya gotta time the fun-making, you know.
Now, here’s a Golden Ticket I discovered: Illinois is one of the states of our fine union that has a particular mandate in place “Illinois law requires insurance companies and HMOs to provide coverage for infertility to employee groups of more than 25.” This is like winning the mother fucking lottery. Here’s the dish on all that:
That insurance kicked in January 1st, and we are now covered for up to four IVF cycles if that’s what it takes to get this old broad knocked up.
We found a new RE, whom we affectionately call The Russian (she is, in fact, Russian and all her w’s adorably turn into v’s) – she gave us the facts but also some hope and I knew we were in good hands. We saw her that first time on Valentine’s Day, and since I knew I was about to ovulate, she did an ultrasound to see how things looked. Jokingly, she said, “sometime veee scare them together.” Well……she was right, she scared them together, and I never got my period that month.
I’d gotten pregnant naturally at 42.
Suck it naysayers.