Boston IVF visit
Jan. 28th, 2006 10:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpYesterday I learned some very important things.
1. I learned that the doctor is pretty optimistic that he can figure something out to get me pregnant, one way or another, and that he's a pretty supportive guy who was very normalizing and nice and good to Jen and all of that. In fact, the whole office was very good to Jen, which was nice.
2. That insurance won't cover a cent of any sort of treatment I might want, because I don't have a male partner and therefore cannot say that we have been "trying" for one year. Because of this, the insurance company assumes that the ENTIRE FIRST YEAR of treatment is the "trying" and will start paying after 12 months of attempts. And according to my PCP's office, at-home inseminations don't count.
I'll give this a moment to settle in.
Nevermind that I have a diagnosis of a fertility-related condition, nevermind that I have been trying medication treatment for such things for a year, nevermind that I .pay. for my insurance and therefore deserve to actually get my claims paid. Just, "no." And, of course, they told me none of this on the telephone when I called customer service the other week to inquire about my fertility benefits. I found out quite suddenly in the midst of conversation with the doctor who assumed I knew all of this and surrepitiously shattered my dream of actually being able to do this.
One cycle of IUI (intrauterine insemination) costs $400, plus the cost of sperm. (One thing we DID learn is how long and difficult the process of known-donor sperm is when you go through a clinic as opposed to at-home.) One cycle of IUI plus the monitoring (blood work and ultrasound to try to confirm ovulation) that is recommended for me because I don't ovulate is $925.
Now we have this terrible dilemma. Do we chew through a huge chunk of our savings to try to get me pregnant (which might or might not work) for x number of months until we're a) broke or b) ready to just cry? Do we say, "eff it" and decide to try to get Jen inseminated, since she doesn't have apparent fertility problems and is probably more likely to conceive - if we have to pay, we might as well have better chances? Do we just bag the whole thing and save money for adoption? Do we try a couple of months of the cheapest option and see what happens?
I am just so broken about the whole thing. I was just so blindsided. I went into the visit nerrvous that I would hear how difficult it would be for me to do this and how stressful it would be. Instead we found out that insurance doesn't like to cover two chicks making a baby (because straight couples can just SAY they're trying, they don't need to show any 'proof').
I'm going to try to call my insurance on Monday and tell them I was previously married to a man and was unable to conceive... but I doubt that will go anywhere. And it sucks that I am even considering delving into my personal, private life to try to get fair coverage.
All I want is one tiny shred of good news. That's all. I feel like my life is just one long series of shitty events.
1. I learned that the doctor is pretty optimistic that he can figure something out to get me pregnant, one way or another, and that he's a pretty supportive guy who was very normalizing and nice and good to Jen and all of that. In fact, the whole office was very good to Jen, which was nice.
2. That insurance won't cover a cent of any sort of treatment I might want, because I don't have a male partner and therefore cannot say that we have been "trying" for one year. Because of this, the insurance company assumes that the ENTIRE FIRST YEAR of treatment is the "trying" and will start paying after 12 months of attempts. And according to my PCP's office, at-home inseminations don't count.
I'll give this a moment to settle in.
Nevermind that I have a diagnosis of a fertility-related condition, nevermind that I have been trying medication treatment for such things for a year, nevermind that I .pay. for my insurance and therefore deserve to actually get my claims paid. Just, "no." And, of course, they told me none of this on the telephone when I called customer service the other week to inquire about my fertility benefits. I found out quite suddenly in the midst of conversation with the doctor who assumed I knew all of this and surrepitiously shattered my dream of actually being able to do this.
One cycle of IUI (intrauterine insemination) costs $400, plus the cost of sperm. (One thing we DID learn is how long and difficult the process of known-donor sperm is when you go through a clinic as opposed to at-home.) One cycle of IUI plus the monitoring (blood work and ultrasound to try to confirm ovulation) that is recommended for me because I don't ovulate is $925.
Now we have this terrible dilemma. Do we chew through a huge chunk of our savings to try to get me pregnant (which might or might not work) for x number of months until we're a) broke or b) ready to just cry? Do we say, "eff it" and decide to try to get Jen inseminated, since she doesn't have apparent fertility problems and is probably more likely to conceive - if we have to pay, we might as well have better chances? Do we just bag the whole thing and save money for adoption? Do we try a couple of months of the cheapest option and see what happens?
I am just so broken about the whole thing. I was just so blindsided. I went into the visit nerrvous that I would hear how difficult it would be for me to do this and how stressful it would be. Instead we found out that insurance doesn't like to cover two chicks making a baby (because straight couples can just SAY they're trying, they don't need to show any 'proof').
I'm going to try to call my insurance on Monday and tell them I was previously married to a man and was unable to conceive... but I doubt that will go anywhere. And it sucks that I am even considering delving into my personal, private life to try to get fair coverage.
All I want is one tiny shred of good news. That's all. I feel like my life is just one long series of shitty events.
