“My name is Sylvester McMonkey McBean.
And I’ve heard of Your troubles. I’ve heard you’re unhappy.
But I can fix that, I’m the Fix-It-Up Chappie.
I’ve come here to help you.
I have what you need.
And my prices are low. And I work with great speed.
And my work is one hundred per cent guaranteed!”
Then, quickly, Sylvester McMonkey McBean
Put together a very peculiar machine.
And he said, “You want stars like a Star-Belly Sneetch?
My friends, you can have them for three dollars each!”
“Just pay me your money and hop right aboard!”
So they clambered inside. Then the big machine roared.
And it klonked. And it bonked. And it jerked. And it berked.
And it bopped them about. But the thing really worked!
When the Plain-Belly Sneetches popped out, they had stars!
They actually did. They had stars upon thars!
As the title goes, this is Toddlers and Test Tubes. So I may pull my materials from the world around me. This is a quote from one of Toddler T's favorite books, "The Sneetches" by Dr. Suess. We just read it tonight. As I type, he is currently as snug as a bug in a rug and Mr. T has headed out to a work Christmas Party.
This story is meant to teach tolerance. Lately, it reminds me of the IVF process and my doctor, Dr. Millionpicturesonthewall.
Why, does this remind me of Dr. M?
Because he is smooth. He is
Now, for the comparisons to the process of IVF. IVF, in my experience and opinion is like a very peculiar machine. Where I found myself clambering inside, paying our money (I wish it was $3 each) and getting klonked, bonked, jerked and berked only to be popped outside on the other end. Except we aren't trying to pop out with Stars Upon Ours.. but rather a pregnancy. I was so (and still am) willing to get in Sylvester McMonkey McBeans's machine because it holds the promise of what I want.
Before I go too far with my posts and leave the majority of you all thinking that I am seeing this doctor against my will, let me clarify. I realize that my descriptions of him are less than becoming. I refer to him as Dr. Specialist, Dr. Millionpicturesonthewall or Dr. M for short. That is my emotional reaction to him. Not my intellectual one. You see, I do not worship doctors. I have had the privilege of working beside some really, really smart ones. I respect doctors and see them as individuals who had the intelligence and tenacity to complete their training. I believe they should get the same respect as every other person on their team, from the receptionist, to the tech, to the embryologist to the housekeeper. So when Dr. M patted me on the back with a bright smile and said that this would be fine... I was skeptical. I thought he was seeing us as a way to bolster his clinic success rates. I did not care for the broad-brush statements, when so many doctors before him had been proven wrong. But you see, those were my emotions. My thoughts were clear. This man is brilliant and I'm not asking for him to be my tennis partner ( not that I play, but you get the comparison). I am asking him to help use have a safe and successful pregnancy. And judging by his education and proven track record, I think I've picked the right guy.
It was this support of his intellect that proved to be incredibly challenging when we had our consultation following the cancellation of my IVF cycle. (Trying to keep my time line straight, go here.). Going into the cycle, I knew my AMH was low and yet I went through 3 weeks of needles, several monitoring appointments and a boat load of money to be cancelled. CANCELLED, due to poor response. That consult was last week and it still stings. We will try to complete our IVF cycle in January. The meds will be stronger and the anxiety will be higher. It's like we are going into a bidding war over buying a house and our realtor has just told us to come back with our best and final offer.
If that attempt fails, the following consult will definitely include the words, egg donation and or adoption. While there is nothing wrong with these two words. I keep feeling blindsided.