To be fair, no one has said this to me in so many words. But I suspect that’s because they’re too busy telling me that I’ll change my mind about IVF.
Yesterday, I told you about how my gynecologist brought up adoption during my annual appointment. I didn’t tell you, because my rant was already far too long and involved, that she spent even more time telling me that I should get IVF.
See, it turns out, she had IVF. I found out, because when I gave her the update on our fertility testing and treatment plans, I included my usual caveat: “We’re willing to do anything up to IVF, but we don’t want to do that.”
She asked why not, so I told her a short version of my fears: pain, side effects, expense. The long version is too long for a doctor’s appointment, and involves too much of my personal business, much of which I don’t usually feel like going into on a regular basis.
Suffice to say, like many people, I was molested as a kid, and like very few people in this country, I also had surgery without anesthesia during my childhood. (Unrelated to said molestation, just in case that was unclear.) Both left me with PTSD, which is aggravated by doctor’s appointments and medical procedures. Beyond all of that, I don’t want to resent my husband, which I would do if I had to dick around with my hormones on that level for that long.
I maybe should have tried for the long version, though, because the next thing she said was, “You’ll be fine with IVF, you’ll see. I had it, and it wasn’t fun, but it was fine.”
Note the wording there: “You’ll be fine.” Like it was definitely happening.
Well, anyone who says therapy doesn’t work is full of shit, because the me of five years ago would have argued with her. I would have tried to get her endorsement of my non-IVF plan, and secure her understanding of my position. It would have been crucially important to me to get her to say, “I hear what you’re saying and I understand and believe that you’re not getting IVF. Furthermore, I was wrong and you are right.”
Now, I just said, “OK, thanks” and moved on. I don’t need her to understand that I don’t want IVF, because she wouldn’t be administering it. I just need my cooter checked, which I got. Also, I talked to her about wanting a C-section, and got some leads on how to make that happen, which was very useful.
See that? Priorities, I haz them.
(Photo by Biblioarchives/Flickr)