14 Nov

I’ve never been much of a gambler.  It always seems like a huge waste to spend money to MAYBE get some money back.  I don’t really understand the attraction to casinos–I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been inside one, and none of those times was particularly amusing.  Scratch offs are amusing for a brief amount of time, but frustrating when all you win is a couple of bucks. We also don’t really play the lotto–I think we’ve bought a lotto ticket maybe 5 times.  I’ve never bought on my own.  And we go to the OTB a couple times a year to bet on horses, most notably for Derby Day.  I put a dollar or two on each horse to win, that way I am guaranteed a win.

missing a leg...ready for a big party...and a win!

missing a leg…ready for a big party…and a win!

I guess that’s my issue with gambling–I like to know the outcome of things.  I don’t like surprises (particularly)–they make me a little anxious to be honest.  If I am going to invest something (be it money or time), I like to know that it’s going to be for positive outcomes.  Without a guarantee, gambling seems like a waste (and to be fair, there’s a reason casinos and the lotto make so much money…and it’s not because gamblers are winning big).


So I’m not a gambler.


Eric and I had our first doctor appointment at the RE’s office in months.  I have been a wreck all week thinking about what’s going to happen.  My head was swimming with the what-ifs, and no matter how often I told myself to calm the f down and that worrying doesn’t do any good anyway, I couldn’t stop.  Add to that some family stress and some stress from work, and it’s fair to say that this week (from about Tuesday through today) was not one of my finer ones…


The doctor appointment was ok.  My ultrasound showed a medium cyst, but the dr. said it would be OK to start injections and we’d just monitor it.  We were then sent to the room next door to learn how to give injections.  My head was swimming with all the rules (or possibly just from thinking about the needle that was going to go into my stomach)–refrigerate the pen, load the right dose, wipe this and that with alcohol, let it dry so it doesn’t sting when you give the injection, make sure the medicine’s all out before you remove the needle, you can give it in the stomach or the leg, give it when you’re going to relax to lessen the chance of bruising…Eric was there to make sure he knew what to do since he’s going to give me the shots.  I know people give themselves shots all the time–my father-in-law has diabetes, and I’ve helped him test his blood sugar a billion times.  But for some reason, maybe because now it’s my body getting stuck with needles, it just seems insane that you can be trusted to give yourself shots–I mean, shouldn’t a doctor or a nurse be doing this shit????  We left there, I immediately went to get baseline blood work done (hooray more needles), I called the special infertiles’ pharmacy to make sure my order had gone through, and then I tried to relax.  In the form of cooking like a maniac for an hour and a half before our run.


I was feeling ok, but then on our way to the group run last night, I got a phone call that my insurance needed more info from the doctor before they’d accept the charges for the injections.  Great.  I needed them today (they were going to special order them for me because they’d messed up the initial order 3 weeks ago), so that meant I wasn’t going to have the stupid pen to start the injections on time.  I asked how much they’d be out-of-pocket.  $2,750, the woman calmly told me.  I laughed out loud–yeah ok 3 grand for tummy shots?  We’ll wait for insurance to go through.


“$3,000 for something that might work,” Eric said incredulously.  This has been my feeling for so long now.  We have invested so much time and money into this already.  Hours of doctor visits and copays each time (and thank God it’s only copays and we have amazing insurance that covers most of the treatments we’ve undergone–but copays add up when you’re at the office multiple times a week).  All for a chance…each time, it’s a series of maybes.  Maybe I’ll form a good follicle.  Maybe I’ll ovulate.  Maybe we’ll get pregnant.  Maybe we’ll actually carry to term.  It’s overwhelming to think of it that way–that there are so many things that have to go perfectly in order for this to work.


This whole process has been a gamble.  And I’ve already written about how I feel regarding gambling.  We will spend the weekend giving injections.  Monday I go for more blood work to see if things are working/to see if we need to adjust the dosage. Injections will continue.  I will have to go back for another ultrasound, likely toward the end of next week.  The following week will potentially be more blood work/ultrasounds (unless my body doesn’t respond well to the meds, which makes me nervous because my body hasn’t responded well to any of the other meds so far), and then I will have to take off work to have another IUI (which will hopefully be less uncomfortable/painful than the first one).  And then we wait to see if any or all of the maybes worked out.  To see if we win this hand.  But just like a casino, I can’t help but feel like the odds are overwhelmingly stacked against us.


My biggest anxiety right now is just the shots and IUI.  Sometimes I’m not really sure how I think I can be a momma–carry a baby, give birth–if I’m scared of a few lousy needles.  I was really nervous about the first shot, especially.  The good news is that today I had to make an emergency run back to the doctor’s office to pick up a needle pen (because of the insurance/pharmacy debacle) during my lunch break.  I got there, and the pen she gave me is different from the one Eric and I learned on yesterday–so she had to show me a new pen, and then just gave me the first dose in the office.  She promised it wasn’t going to hurt, and sure enough, it was fine.  My tummy feels a little bruised tonight, but I wonder if maybe it’s just in my crazy head.


So here we go.  The next step of this terrible journey has started.  Let the fun begin.


maybe if I reframe it as an adventure, it will seem less sucky?


One Response to “Gambling”


  1. NIAW–The missing voice | shmeruns - April 30, 2017

    […] to term. 65%   Those are some really shitty odds.  I wrote YEARS ago about how I feel about gambling, how the choice to seek and continue fertility treatments is ultimately just a gamble.  But I […]

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