Interesting article about how infertility changes our perceptions, and perhaps how others perceive us.
I am currently on leave for a week - yay school holidays! I hope to make some artwork this week. I have a couple of ideas so we'll see what I can magic up :P
Unfortunately this time of year is hard for me. I have 1 year left to wait of penalty time before hubby and I become eligible to go on the 18 month waiting list for publicly funded IVF, ICSI, sperm retrieval.
That is a total of 2.5 more years to wait. That will make the total time that I've been waiting = 10.5 years. I will be 31. I am 29 now and I was 27 when I started this blog.
It's not an easy wait. I have had absolutely no contact with the clinic for months. I last spoke to the clinic manager on the phone, telling her I would send in a formal complaint letter. Inertia has gotten the better of me, and when the local politician, and the Minister of Health both shrugged and said they couldn't help, I kinda resigned myself to waiting. Fighting was destroying me.
I would dearly love to change clinics. But because I am not a human being, the NZ health system sees fit to restrict me, someone from the provinces, to a single clinic. This is the only location in NZ where I can access publicly funded treatment - once I wait wait wait and wait for it.
Time away from work is hard, because IF consumes me. I keep thinking about how the beauracrats classify our case, and how we don't fit into any neat little pigeon-hole:
I have primary infertility, but I am perfectly fertile.
My hubby has secondary infertility caused by a vasectomy during his first marriage. So is it secondary IF when it's with different spouses?
Hubby is adopted, and early on he raised the idea of us adopting a child. I knew then that he understood how much a child would mean to me, but not that I needed the child to be mine. Of me, and of him.
Partially, this idea has been tested. I have 3 step kids. They don't live with us full-time, and we get along well. But they're not mine. I look at them and my heart is crushed each time as I remember that hubby has this past which I can do nothing about to change.
Which is also strange, because if any part of hubby's past was different (if he never met his first wife, never had kids, never got talked into having the vasectomy etc etc) then chances are I would never have met'n'married him. And he is my best friend. So I am absolutely torn when that ugly desire rears it's head.
I feel alone. Because I am going thru IF. I am the one who doesn't have kids and he does. So he doesn't have the same sense of urgency or need. Plus I'm not really infertile at all. Technically, I don't know, since my eggs have never been anywhere even remotely close to any sperm ever.
I feel full of unsettling opposites. Infertile but not. Secondary versus primary. A step mom but not a real mum. Happy with life and love and job but unfulfilled. 8+ years in this situation but not long enough duration to qualify.
I haven't even contacted my OB who referred me to the fertility clinic. Maybe he could help - of course that would cost money.
My new GP is very nice. He actually trained in the same class as the head of the fertility clinic franchise. But what can he do? He can change the law can he?
I am a patient who has been left completely alone. No follow up care whatsoever. And reading the article at the top of this post, seeing stories about how the relationship with the RE is crucial - I just feel lost. If I complain now, will they make it harder for us later? They are a business that is largely unmonitored, so they can probably chuck noisy customers to the bottom of the heap.
As you can see, holidays have once again given me too much time to think and mope. Either I spend this week making artwork, or start writin' letters again.
What do you think I should do?