I’m choosing to overshare

Dec 17, 2009 | Uncategorized

I needed to write this all down, because it’s eating away at me and I thought if I sent it away it would be slightly less painful than harboring it all in my thoughts.  Like Rosemary says, it’s important to write out your demons. 

So it’s come down to this.  I have an ultrasound scheduled for early January to confirm that I have polycystic ovarian syndrome, otherwise known as dysfunctional ovaries.  I went to my primary care physician this week for something else unrelated and told her about my cycle and about my problems thus far with trying to chart my cycle, and she urged me to make an appointment with my ob-gyn to determine the cause.  So I did. 

My mother, the voice of reason, told me I need to check with my insurance to see if if an ultrasound before pregnancy is covered, which I did. 

It’s not.  There are only 15 states that require infertility coverage because most states don’t see infertility as a medical need, since OTHER people have babies all the time.  OF COURSE, Georgia isn’t one of them.  At this point, it will probably cost me twice as much as the average person with insurance to have a baby. 

So, now I’m sitting here waiting to hear back from my ob-gyn with a price quote of how much this particular ultrasound procedure will cost.  But, being the Google queen that I am, I discovered it could cost anywhere from a couple hundred to a couple thousand. 

I’m so angry, so overwhelmed, so jealous of my pregnant friends and friends that already have babies.  I hate that something so basic as being able to have a child has turned me into (sometimes) this vicious green-eyed monster.  I feel so silly even thinking that maybe if I were the praying type that would actually do me some kind of good.  What a horribly hypocritical thing to say, let alone think.  “Oh, it’s convenient for me to believe in you now, when I could possibly go broke trying to get the one thing given away to drunken teenagers at school lock-ins like church pamphlets on a busy street corner.”  I look at the pudge around my navel caused by Velveeta shells and cheese binges, imagining for a split moment that I’m a protective mother, shielding her embryo from the outside world.  But in a flash, the thought’s gone, and I realize that I should just do crunches and stop torturing myself (“Stop torturing yourself, man.  You’ll never afford it! Live in the now!” – Garth Algar). 

I know I should try to live in the now.  Eckhart Tolle wouldn’t be selling millions of books if it weren’t a worthy idea.  But I go through stages where nothing else matters to me except this.  It completely consumes me, and I haven’t met anybody else who can relate.  I’ve read about other people online, sure, but I had to stop reading online infertility blogs because they just made me feel worse.  My most basic human right as a woman is unattainable, or at the very least attainable by way of thousands of dollars that we don’t have. 

I’m not really sure what to do now, except wait for the call from my ob-gyn and decide whether or not to go through with the ultrasound and stay focused on other things…Holidays with family.  Potential teacher certification.  Pure Romance.  So it goes. 


  1. I am so, so sorry to hear this. My heart really breaks for you. I know my situation is a bit different from yours, but I too understand what you mean by being so angry, overwhelmed, and jealous of pregnant friends and friends with babies.

    It really, really sucks that your insurance won’t cover the ultrasound. I remember that when I was looking to get an ultrasound while uninsured, I was quoted $250. The only advice I can offer is that if the cost is too much, I would call around to see if there are other places that offer it at a lesser rate. And as for Georgia (in addition to so many other states) not requiring infertility treatments to be covered under insurance? That’s just bullcrap. I remember writing to my state representatives regarding our insurance laws, and I urge you to do the same.

    Please stay strong and I’ll keep you in my prayers.

  2. Okay, well, first – congratulations on your life changing so wonderfully since you wrote this!

    And second – thanks for writing this. It makes me feel a little less crazy. Your paragraph about being jealous of pregnant teens and being irrationally hopeful about “mac-and-cheese belly” could have been recorded straight off of the soundtrack in my head.

    I’m enjoying your blog (came to it via Geek in Heels). Happy March!