The other day Art-sweet was discussing how one manages to write a blog when one has so many different audiences. An Accident didn't start out as a trying-to-get-pregnant blog; I don't know exactly what kind of blog it started out as. But I do know that I have a very diverse audience of which a large portion might not be interested in the workings of my reproductive system. To you, I apologize for this post.
4 would be my serum progesterone level. 4. Some of you may not know what this means. This means that I didn't ovulate. Well, duh. I guess I knew that already since my cycle was only 23 days long. But still. 4. That's low. Especially for being on 100 mg of clomid. 4. Only 4.
So now I have a prescription for 150 mg of clomid, no refills. And a strong suggestion. My doctor is firing me. See, she's not a reproductive endocrinologist. If clomid could help me, then she was happy to give me clomid and monitor me on it. But she doesn't believe that the clomid is going to help me and she doesn't work with the harder stuff. She doesn't work with femara. She doesn't do injectibles. She's not comfortable with a trigger shot. So why am I at this doctor in the first place? Because I live in Utah. And, well...
See, Kristin and "I" met the one reproductive endocrinologist in Utah that is rumored to be comfortable working with lesbians. The "I" is in scare quotes, because even though I was there at Kristin's appointment, the doctor never "met" me. He never really looked at me, or acknowledged me as a future parent. He didn't address any of his comments my way. He looked at Kristin when answering my questions. After all, Kristin was going to be a "single mother." That's how he referred to her. As a single mother. Right in front of me. Even though we had explained our relationship to him. Maybe we're too sensitive. But we were so relieved when Kristin got pregnant that month without that doctor's help. It meant we didn't have to deal with him again. And he is the "tolerant" one. The one that's willing to work with lesbians. The other doctors won't work with man-hating, daddy-destroying, carpet munchers at all.
So that's why we didn't rush right to him. We tried to use our very friendly gyn office. But today she told me that I need to see someone else. She told me to go see Dr. Blauer. Ok, I know for some reason most people pseudonymize their doctors. But this guy has a website and I want to see if other people get the same feelings about him that I do.
This is a relatively new infertility clinic. But the doctors there are very experienced. Good news, right? Well, I can't imagine that my doctor would refer me to a doctor who is homophobic, but I can't help being very, very apprehensive about these doctors. Read their bios. They talk about their LDS missions. Why is this relevant to their skills as infertility specialists? This, my friends, is code. It's letting everyone know that these doctors are good, devout Mormons. The one is even active in the boy scouts. The boy scouts. Bastions of homophobia and, at least here in Utah, firmly in the LDS church's control. The LDS church that believes gay people are ok, just as long as they remain celibate and single and live out their lonely, pathetic lives in prayer that God will help them change. Will a devout LDS doctor help a radical, married dyke concieve out of Church Presidency and State-sanctioned Matrimony? I doubt it. I'm wondering if I should go in and lie (but what are the chances they'll help a "single woman"?) or should I go in with my labrys shining and sharpened?
So. I guess what I'm going to do is make an appointment with the doctor that Kristin and "I" saw 2 years ago. He's booked about 2-3 months out for new patients. And I'll make an appointment with the RMRE (Pronounced "rimree": Returned Missionary Reproductive Endoctrinologist) because their website says they can get people in for consultations quickly. And I'll pray. I'll pray that 150 mg of Clomid pushes my body into ovulation so that I don't have to let a RMRE look at my hoohaa.
Now. There comes a time in every woman's life when she must shake off the shackles of her oppressors and take a day off from work so that she can get a killer taco salad and eat it while lying on her stomach on her bed reading a really good book (after she's done the mountain of ironing while watching Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl again, of course). And so that's what I'm going to do today. Have a good day, y'all!