Our First Appointment

We had our first appointment at the Center for Reproductive Medicine in Lake Mary yesterday. We were referred there by a lesbian couple who, by the way, are now happily pregnant after only three inseminations (IUI's).

Both D and I were incredibly nervous, having no idea what to expect. As a result, we growled at each other the night before, the morning of, and even on the car ride there. I felt a little like I was waiting for a job interview as I turned magazine pages (not because I was actually reading anything but rather because it kept my hands busily occupied) in the waiting room. And I couldn't help but eye the couples, looking equally uncomfortable, sitting in the seats surrounding us. All the men seemed to have their eyes glued to the Nancy Grace sound-a-like prattling on about Tiger Woods and his many sexual faux pas. The women were busily reading leaflets and articles about financing IVF procedures. D and I, as is normal for us, stood out like a stain on white linoleum, but nobody seemed to notice -- a pleasant surprise. We were unusually early (that's because of me for those of you that don't know us) so we had plenty of time to read through magazines and grow more nervous.

When D and I were finally waiting in Dr. Jaffe's office, D said that she felt a like we were waiting to sign mortgage papers rather than waiting to discuss baby-making. Staring at the fake wood desk in front of me and the Rothko knock off paintings to my right and left, I had to agree.

We both really liked Dr. Jaffe. She was warm (as was the staff), extremely knowledgeable, and patient. And she apparently is a chocolate addict (we watched her steal ample chocolates from what appeared to be a nurse's box of candies in between appointments). I made a mental note to buy her chocolates if we ever get pregnant.

Our appointment began with first a nurse and then Dr. Jaffe firing a series of questions at D about her medical and sexual history, etc., while I tried to look like I was supposed to be there -- in other words, I very consciously nodded and smiled at what I thought were the appropriate times. D is so thoughtful that she turned to me several times to ask if I had any questions. I could tell she was making the gesture to try to include me, which made me love her all the more.

After the third degree, D was ushered into another room where Dr. Jaffe conducted an ultrasound examination of her reproductive organs. Although I was invited, I wasn't there at the time because D and I decided that it would be inappropriate for me to stay during the procedure. So I waited outside by the nurses' station where I ironically watched daughters accompany their mothers and male partners accompany their spouses or girlfriends into the various exam rooms. D told me after that Dr. Jaffe had mentioned something about a cyst and what might be a small fibroid, but "there was nothing to worry about." Of course we're worrying.

Then blood was drawn -- five or six vials. I asked if they left any for D, to which the vampire nurse smiled. The blood tests will determine hormone levels, etc., from which they can extrapolate information about D's ovulation and the quality of her eggs. We were handed a zillion pieces of literature on everything from the pros and cons of hormone treatment to the ins and outs of shopping at sperm banks (definitely not bedside reading). We were informed of the FDA requirement that we schedule a consult with a counselor -- some sort of psychiatric evaluation. We were also told to call the facility when D next gets her menstrual cycle (this should be in a few days), at which time they will schedule an HSG test (a dye test to see if her fallopian tubes are open). I never thought I'd be counting down the days to a fallopian tube test, but I am...

Hopefully, we'll have test results at our next appointment and know more definitively our chances for getting pregnant. Sorry about the unusually clinical nature of this posting, but I think I'm still recovering from handing boxes of Kleenex to teary-eyed apologetic eighteen-year-old plagiarists while still trying to retain my strict superintendent glare(ah, the last week of the semester -- what joy!).