The lying was really terrible for S, but no one is suspecting anything, which I suppose is good. Everything else is fairly shitty. Here is god damned deal:
they DO require a blood panel
they DO require a semen analysis
they are NOT open on weekends
they request that the semen be collected offsite then brought in (apparently “the sample needs to sit for a half hour anyway before being processed” WTF??)
she gave S a pelvic despite the fact that she has had like 35 pelvics since January
If I had known this shit I would have sent S to one of the local sperm banks or a goddamn fertility clinic, where they are experts at handling and washing sperm. I asked the receptionist MULTIPLE times EXACTLY what would be required, I had her check with the nurse MULTIPLE TIMES to make sure the information was correct, I gave her my phone number and told her to call me if she got ANY new information, and of course I got the *wrong* information.
Now we must ask RM to go into a lab and get his blood drawn and get his semen collected. This is exactly what we wanted to avoid.
And I know this shouldn’t bug me, but I have to pay an extra $27 to have S’s medical records sent to us instead of the new doc so we can edit out any info about me. If they are sent directly to the new doc there is no charge. I know $27 is no big deal in the scheme of this whole debacle, but it irks me like a papercut.
To top it off S and I got in a huge fight when she called to give me the details of her appointment. She was feeling relieved that it was over, and glad that it went well. As I asked for further information, I began to get more and more angry that we were given the wrong info, and frustrated and grumpy. She got grumpy and stressed about me being grumpy and stressed. She missed a morning of work, and stressed all week only to go to a place where we still must jump through hoops and make RM jump through hoops, and not even go to an expert sperm washing facility.
On the not complaining side, she will do an IUI, IF IT IS ON A WEEKDAY, and she’s fine with Dr. Poor Social Skills monitoring S. S and I made up, but I’m still feeling teary frustration that yet another part of this is not going as planned. I knew it wouldn’t, but it still sucks. Oh, and we are 8DPO. S just called me and said sweetly “maybe it worked this time, maybe the cramping I had last night was implantation cramps.” I simply had nothing to say back. I dug deep and finally found a weak and halfhearted “maybe.”