Our Intake Experience - Part 2

We sat opposite a straight couple in their forties who seemed somewhat sad as we waited to be called in for my ultrasound. It hadn't occurred to me until then that people typically went to a fertility clinic because they were so frustrated with not having been able to conceive. And while this was a last ditch effort for so many people, this was our beginning. Among these upper class, straight socialites, we were the privileged ones.

As my balloon of excitement slowly deflated at the thought of these other couples and their emptiness, we were called back for my ultrasound. I was surprised to learn that apparently they do them intravaginally these days. I laid stiff as a board on the examining table while I waited for the ultrasound tech to prepare for the procedure. For weeks now, I had worried that I might find out during this ultrasound that I would never be able to carry children. It's not that I'd ever had any indications of that being the case; it just seemed like the most perfect punishment that life could offer. I had always known I wanted to have kids, but I had never been in the right place to do so. Now I was finally ready to find out what baby making potential lived in my loins, and at the same time, I was overwhelmed with the fear that I would get a dreadful answer to that question; that I would be back out there in that waiting room feeling the same pain and sadness as the empty, frustrated couple.

 The ultrasound tech was gentle and the procedure didn't hurt as much as I'd anticipated. She worked quietly, saying nothing as she snapped pictures with her machine. We had no idea what we were looking at on the screen - it looked like one blob after another; one big, one small; one black, one white. I hoped that the objects she was taking pictures of were intriguing to her because she liked what she saw, rather than the opposite, but I dared not ask. When we were done and my pants were back on, we were led to a third waiting room. We had barely sat down there when Dr. Michael Glassner walked out of his office and introduced himself to us.

We had seen wall mounted newspaper clippings and Philadelphia top doctor's awards which had his name on them in the office where we did the intake with the other doctor earlier in the appointment. He was a pioneer in cryo-freezing embryos. He had been on 20-20 and he was now shaking our hands. He had every right to be pretentious but with just his firm handshake and soft, gentle expression, we were put at ease.

We walked in and, to our surprise, the other doctor who'd conducted the intake with us at the beginning of the appointment was there. She smiled widely at us and I got the sense that everything was in very good hands. Dr. Glassner sat across the desk from us and said flatly, "I'm going to help make all of your fertility dreams come true". There was something generic about the statement that made me question myself and my prior feelings of ease and comfort, "Is this guy for real? Is this a commercial?" And that's when he said, "I read through your chart, I spoke with my colleague here, and it sounds like you're a committed couple who has worked really hard to get where you are- I know you must have a solid relationship. You deserve to have this and you shouldn't have to put your life on hold for it any longer."

I was staring at him and tears began falling uncontrollably onto his desk. He was the most compassionate doctor I'd ever spoken with. I had prepared myself for a doctor who would make insensitive comments and make us feel small for even thinking we could do this. Rae was stroking my back and smiling. I was shaking my head and wishing someone would pinch me! All of a sudden, I remembered that none of his compassion would matter if my uterus wouldn't carry a child. "Was the ultrasound ok?" I managed to get out. "Yes. It looked good", he replied.

I wept harder and someone passed me the tissues.  The question that was weighing on my mind came spilling out, "How much will everything cost?" He explained that the cost varies depending on the amount of medication Rae would need (which would be determined closer to the procedure date), but that it was between $9,000-$15,000. Although, that was much more money than either of us had at the time, that was the price of a cheap car. I didn't have a car, I reasoned in my mind, but if I needed a car, I would buy one. So, why then, would we not commit to spending the same amount of money to create a life? "And," he shared, "there are cost-saving measures we can take to significantly reduce the costs associated. He listed a few major ways couples can lighten the financial load and I was convinced we could do this!

He smoothly transitioned into a description of the procedure and our options. On the day of Rae's period, we would call the office and set up an appointment for the next day to come in, get another ultrasound and our instructions for the next two weeks. Rae would be taking a series of injections for ten to twelve days. The injections would overstimulate the production of eggs and also keep him from ovulating too soon. The grand finale would begin with an intramuscular injection of HCG which tells the ovaries to go ahead with releasing the eggs. Following that injection, we would head back to the clinic for the retrieval of the eggs. It used to be much more invasive but they now do it all lapriscopically. He stopped and said, "Now, some choose to retrieve and freeze eggs, but freezing embryos creates the best possible outcomes. Thawed embryos are much more viable than frozen eggs." I hadn't even considered that we would need to find a sperm donor so soon and the thought of it was quite daunting. I tried to quiet my mind long enough to find out what would happen next. He described that on the day of the retrieval, Rae would go under anesthetic, they would remove all of the mature follicles and inject the sperm into each one. They would let them grow and divide for three or four days and then freeze the most viable embryos.

I was in shock. Seriously dumbfounded. We had the ability to freeze tiny babies for later in life, when we were good and ready to be parents. I couldn't stop crying and so instead, I apologized for the continuing tears. "It's ok, Jen", Dr. Glassner said sincerely. The other doctor just smiled simply in my direction. You know that feeling you get when you're completely at peace? It might come when you're sitting on the beach with a loved one at sunset or when you're reading your favorite book on a cool autumn afternoon. That feeling was all around me. I felt like there was a warm blanket all around us and that we were protected from all the evils in the world.

As I stared at him blankly (still slightly shaking my head), I heard him say, "Rae, we want you to have an ultrasound today". I guessed he hadn't heard our plan. "Well," I explained, "We were going to wait to find out how much everything would cost and then I could call my insurance company to see if it would be worthwhile to get him on my insurance. After that, we could come back for the ultrasound. Would that be ok?" The two doctors looked at each other and said, "No, we want you to have it today, Rae". I took in a deep breath. And then Dr. Glassner gave us yet another gift, "It's on me," he said. The other doctor gave him a surprised look and said, "You're really trying to get the gold star today!" "Well, it's the first day of Hanukkah", and he smiled genuinely. "My son's not getting anything today because of this, but that's ok," he joked. We all laughed and Rae and I thanked him profusely.

They led us back to waiting room number two where we waited again with the sad couples. This time though, we couldn't hold back our ecstatic amazement. It wasn't long before Rae was in position on the examining table and the probe was in showing us what his fertility potential looked like. Again, the tech didn't talk while she clicked the mouse and moved the probe about. This time though, I wasn't worried. I felt like a million bucks! We headed to waiting room number three where Dr. Glassner met us with the ultrasound pictures in hand and said "They look great. You both look good - though I like these last pictures better, you both look good."