Oh, the money!

The whole situation around this insurance stuff, I am mostly mad at myself. I am a super researcher- whenever I'm buying anything over $100, I go online to determine my best options. I can't believe I was so stupid as to not look into this further.

I cried and cried about it yesterday, but also felt a little guilty. I know so many infertile couples are much worse of than we are. a) We have had insurance for the last two years. b) We actually do have money in savings to pay for a fresh cycle if we needed to. But... it kills me. I'll have to have another post later this week on my relationship with money, because I know that's a big part of it.

So now I am trying to figure things out. It turns out, as some of you suggested, I can go back on my insurance from my job. I can even do it without CO.BRA since I am technically still employed by my school. I spoke to someone today to see how to do it, and it would cost just over $7000 for the year.

Now, if we do that, we will have to first do a frozen transfer with my one lone embryo... so we have to decide if that's what we want. But, researcher that I am, I wanted to see just how much money we are talking about.

I went through my old papers and made a few calls.... The breakdown from our last cycle:

Meds: $5445
IVF: $8300
ICSI: $2500
PGD: $5200
TOTAL: $22,945

We did have to pay $95 of the meds and $225 of the PGD, but STILL. That's a lot of fucking money. In fact, that was probably my take home from my salary my first year of teaching! Considering our savings, III told me yesterday "If someone told me I had to pay ten grand to have a baby three or four months sooner, at this point I'd totally do it." But, crunching the numbers, it's 20 grand and he might have also been saying that to make me feel better since I was laying on the bed crying into my pillow....

With six complete failures of cycles and two losses, we're impatient. Both of us hate the idea of having to try an FET with only one embryo because of the high chance of failure. But... ugh. I repeat: That's a lot of fucking money.

How about that state mandated infertility coverage! Or not...

We've been lucky throughout this whole shitty process to live in a state where insurance coverage is mandated.

Except when it's not.

When I took a leave from my job, III changed his insurance to a family plan so that I would be covered under it. I always knew I liked my insurance better than III's. There were far fewer co-payments and procedure fees, though my choice of doctors was slightly more limited. But it didn't seem to make sense to pay through CO.BRA to keep mine, especially since we're not 100% sure I'm going back to school. (Since we might move.)

Now it seems it might have actually been CHEAPER to stay on my own insurance, even if I had to pay the whole damn thing. Today I called the insurance company, only to be told that they cover 85% after we meet our deductible, except for ART like IVF, IUI, and ICSI.

For real???? Then what's the fucking point?

I was skeptical, though, because I know that we do live in a state where the coverage is mandated, so I called our clinic.

No dice. Because our insurance is through a federal company instead of a state company, we get no coverage.

I want to throw up. I'm so pissed at everyone right now. If I'm going to be 100% honest, I'm even pissed at III, because if he had just fucking called his insurance company this is likely info he could have gotten through them. Then I could have crunched the numbers to see if it made more sense to keep my insurance while on leave and pay for 100% of it then to switch to his, which has no IVF coverage. The PGD alone on our last cycle was $5200!!!! FUUUUUUUCK.

I really, really, really hate my life. I don't understand why NOTHING CAN BE FUCKING EASY for us!!!! NOTHING. I want to crawl into my bed, curl up in a ball, and never, ever, ever come out again.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Who, me???

Yesterday, I was sitting around playing on f.acebook when an old college friend began to chat with me. Or so I initially thought. He told me he was stuck in London and needed money. Oh, right. The sarcastic bitch that I am, I typed back to this 'friend', "That's so strange! I got an email from my aunt last week saying the exact same thing! Is she with you? I didn't know you guys knew each other!" So, yeah. I reported it to fb and also his email provider.

So it's understandable that when I read the email I got today I was skeptical.

Congratulations! Sarah here, and your blog, You Call Me a Bitch Like It's a Bad Thing, was determined to be one of the best blogs to exude overall brilliance. And so, it has received our 2010 Top 40 Infertility Blogs award presented by Medical Billing and Coding!

Whaaaat? Medical Billing and Coding? Seems fishy...

...but it is a .org, so with further investigation, it turns out it's for real! Somehow, my brain-dump has been voted to be pretty interesting! :)

On their website, they explain:

With Medical Billing and Coding, a lot of the work is done at home, or on people's own time. With this growing trend, there are bloggers on the inernet who contribute to this amazing at home community, and we want to recognize these bloggers. At the same time, there are so many medical issues out there that people are dealing with and blogging about, that we would love to recognize what they are doing. They blog because it is their passion, but we feel that not only are they pouring out their heart as they blog, they are comfortable enough to let the rest of the world know if they are dealing with a disease or health complication. And we appreciate their boldness.

Well, thanks! And thanks to anyone who may have nominated me! Even thought this blog started as a way for me to connect to others and keep track of my own stuff, it's nice to know others appreciate it!

Yay, me!

Twenty-three

On this day last year...

...I said good bye to my very best friend. My good girl.

The twenty-first was an awful day.
The twenty-second was unbearably trying.

But the twenty-third...

I think about that day often. I can't believe she's been gone for a year. I have been dreaming about her this week and she's very much on my mind. The four years we were together were far too short. I love Peanut, but I hate that her coming into our lives was preceded by losing B.

A year later, I can feel myself forgetting small things about her. I need to look at photos to remember some of her markings. The look on her face when she wanted something. What it felt like when she gave me those rare kisses.

I do remember a lot. The way she would sit on my feet when she was nervous. How she'd put her head on my shoulder from behind me. The face she made when I'd scratch her chin. How her face felt when I held it between my hands. But I know that will also fade...

I wish I could see her again. Let her climb up into my lap (all 75 pounds of her!). Wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her soft neck. Rub her ears. Kiss her smooshy face.

I know I've said all of this before: She was just a dog. But she loved me in a way no one else will ever love me. She came to me when I most needed her, and I miss her every single day.

Twenty-two

On this day last year...

...I spent much of the day in the hospital, concluding the ending of my first (very wanted, but unfortunately very short lived) pregnancy.

In some ways, it doesn't feel like a year ago. In others, it seems so long ago... I often think about what this year would be like if that pregnancy hadn't ended.

I hoped it was something I'd never have to experience again. Little did I know that I'd be in the same situation just a short time later.

I came home from my procedure and spent the rest of the night cuddling with my B-dog. At bed time, I felt well enough to sleep on the futon with her. She, however, did not feel well enough, so I slept in my own bed without her...

Twenty-one

On this day last year...

...I went to my first OB appointment. We had already seen a heartbeat, and I was excited to have been released to my "real" doctor.

What an awful day. I remember having to make that phone call to III from the u/s office to break the news. I think that was almost worse than hearing the news myself.

The memory of that day will never allow me to enjoy the first trimester of a pregnancy (assuming I could anyway...).

It was the beginning of a terrible week. This year, I hope for an uneventful week.

ICLW

This week is "one year since..." for a number of things for me, starting tomorrow.

So I thought I'd post my ICLW welcome early, as there probably will be other things I want to say in the next few days.

We were initially diagnosed with unexplained infertility. After 4 IUIs, 2 IVFs and a miscarriage, we had further testing and found out my husband, III, has a chromosomal inversion. (You can read more about that by clicking the link to the right.) 1 FET, 1 more IVF, and another miscarriage later, I had a laparoscopic myomectomy to remove a fibroid. (More info also to the right.)

So here we are... I'm over a month past my surgery and tomorrow is finally my post op appointment. I'm looking forward to getting the all clear from my surgeon and be told when I can go back to me RE and start our next cycle.

Happy ICLW! I look forward to reading some new blogs and 'meeting' some new bloggers. :)

Woulda, coulda, shoulda...

If we had been one of those mythical couples (ha. I, fortunately or unfortunately, know quite a few of those...) who conceived our first month trying, we would have a two year old now.

If we had been one of those lucky couples who are a "one and done" with our first IUI, our baby would have just celebrated his first birthday.

If IVF had been our silver bullet, and the first one had "taken", we'd be the parents of a six month old.

If our first official pregnancy had been viable and I hadn't miscarried, KB and I would be raising our little ones together, just a few days difference in their ages.

If the fibroid hadn't taken all of the blood supply from my twin pregnancy, I'd be almost seven months pregnant- big and uncomfortable and keeping my fingers crossed for healthy, full term babies.

I've been told plenty of times, IRL and in blogland, that "you can't" think about what might have been. Focus on the now. Focus on the future. "It is what it is."

But how can I not think about it? How can I ignore what I might have had, especially as I sit here, three years down the road, with no baby?

First day of school

Today is the first day with students in my school system.

It is the first day of school in thirty years that I will not be at school.

It feels very weird.

I didn't realize until my leave was accepted just how much I identify myself as being a teacher.

I went to school last week to grab some of the stuff I wanted to make sure survived my absence, and I met the kid who is taking my class.

And I mean kid. He looks about sixteen years old.

I felt surprisingly possessive. This is my classroom! This is my team! These are my kids! (even though I haven't taught them... so they're not really... but...)

I think I really do need this year off. I would not have been ready to go back after our hectic summer. But I feel this sadness inside of me that I didn't expect.

I wonder if it would be different if I knew I'd be back next September. But I don't. We are on the list to be transferred eventually. It probably won't happen this calendar year, but it is totally possible it could happen in the next 12 months.

And, even if it doesn't, I am hoping beyond all hope that I will once again be pregnant at this time next year. Pregnant and close to having a healthy, full term baby.

Change is hard. I said over and over again last year that I needed a break, but now that I have one, I'm terrified.

Out of sorts.

I'm out of sorts this morning. I just missed my workout with my trainer, because I thought it was at 10 and it was at 9:30. Grr.

I have really enjoyed working out with this trainer, and I have felt friendly towards her. I even knitted her a baby sweater as a thank you when we thought we'd be leaving in August. I invited her and her husband over tonight for a bbq with some of our other friends. She initially said "yes" but canceled last night because she said she has to work.

For some reason I wasn't surprised...

One of my worries about moving is making new friends. I am someone who doesn't have any trouble meeting new people. I'm very social and pretty outgoing... but when it comes to hitting that friend level, it is a little harder. I don't know if I have a different definition of "friend" than some- maybe some people who I feel are just acquaintances see me as a friend?

I worry that maybe I am trying to hard. I will meet someone who I would like to befriend, but when I reach out... they are always nice and usually seem interested in going out for coffee, or joining us for dinner- but then when it comes down to it, they don't follow through. It makes me feel like they are just being nice to my face, but aren't really interested, and that in turn makes me feel pathetic.

It is kind of pathetic, isn't it? It sounds like I'm thirteen years old! But I really only have a handful of close friends at home, and they are people who I have "collected" over the years- some relationships took years to develop into what we have. And when we move, I will be leaving them all and starting over. Yes, we will still be friends. We'll still keep in touch and talk on the phone and thank goodness for the internet! But how long will it take me to build new friendships that are local? And how hard to I have to try? And how much rejection (or even apathy and lack of reciprocation) can I take?

A decade.

In 2001, my long term boyfriend broke up with me. My sister got married. I got my master's degree. I lived in an apartment with two roommates. I was in my third year of teaching.

In 2002, I discovered I could enjoy being single. I met KB. I moved with one of my roommates to a two bedroom house. We had lots of parties.

In 2003, I continued enjoying being single. I bought a condo- it was the first time I had ever lived alone.

In 2004, I went to Italy. I had a great group of students at school. I had my heart broken by a loser. (Really... he wasn't worth it.)

In 2005, I adopted B-dog. I healed. I met III.

In 2006, I got engaged. I moved out of my condo. I bought a house. I got married.

In 2007, I went on my honeymoon. I went off the pill. Miss M was born. I got another dog. I remember feeling ridiculously happy this year.

In 2008, I began fertility treatments. My nephew was born.

In 2009, my FIL almost died. My sweet B-dog did die. I got pregnant. I had a miscarriage. I got another dog.

In 2010 (so far), I got pregnant again. I had a miscarriage again. My FIL got a new heart. I took a year off from school.

Ten years... it feels so long, but at the same time it feels like it flew by. Sometimes I can't believe in what a different place I now am- how much has happened to me, how much has changed.

What might the next ten years bring? As expected, I hope it will be filled with the business of motherhood and growing babies.