Clomiphene cycle 3 is a fail so the not-so-merry-go-round continues. At this stage of the ride it seems like an opportune time to write something about the increasing cost of treatment for something that may never happen. I’ve worked out that to date we’ve spent nearly $10,000 on various treatments over the last two years (plus another $9k+ that health insurance paid for my laparoscopy, so we’re approaching the $20k mark in total). To me that seems like an extraordinary amount especially when you consider that we haven’t even made it to IVF yet. We could of course have continued down the public funding route (if we do get to the point of needing IVF we’ll have to switch back to public again) but that of course means a lot more waiting, and the sound of my biological clock is already beginning to drown out the world around us. To put it in perspective, if I was on the public system I would be just about to have my laparoscopic surgery to diagnose and rid my body of endometriosis, rather than being 6 months down the track working my way through Clomiphene as I am now. The publicly funded wait is particularly long for me because on paper I have absolutely nothing wrong with me. Ho hum. This TTC ride certainly flips things upside-down, not once in my life have I wished to have something wrong with me!
I do feel very lucky that we’re in a position where we can afford to seek treatment privately, at least for a time, and I can’t help but think about those who don’t have that option. Another part of our reason to go private was the thought that someone else out there might be delayed further in the search for their Bumble because we were ahead of them in the queue when we could afford to be elsewhere. I only hope that they’re having more success than we are!
$10k. Wow. I honestly didn’t think it would cost us so much to have a baby, and realistically it’s going to cost us a lot more. One more round of clomiphene then we investigate next steps. I suspect that the next step is IUI – intrauterine insemination (yep, that’s right, artificial insemination, like a cow) which is approximately $2000 a pop. Our savings are currently next-to-nil so it will mean some more scrimping-and-saving and missing out on things, but hopefully it will be worth it and we won’t need to go any further. It’s hard not to think about the things we could have spent that money on if we weren’t trying to conceive. $10k would pay a chunk off the mortgage and therefore reduce our interest rate (damn low-equity fees); it would pretty much finish our house renovations, or cover the cost of us to fly to Europe to celebrate my Dad’s 60th birthday with him; and those are purely the selfish ways to spend the money. $10k could help a lot of people. But instead it’s been spent getting us to this point of halfway to nothing.
If everything had gone to plan (pregnant within the first few months like most of my friends) our baby would be nearly one now and we’d be spending money on a first birthday party instead of trying to get to a birth day. For those of you who have read earlier blog posts you’ll remember my (now ex) boss and his wife who were racing me to have a baby. Well, their wee girl turns one in a week’s time and guess who’s creating the invitations for the party……yep, that’s right, me. I’ve had mixed feelings about creating them. It’s the kind of thing I love doing and haven’t done much of lately, but at the same time I feel like we should be creating them for our baby not someone else’s. I only hope one day soon our chance will come and we’ll be complaining about how much Bumble is costing us rather than the endless cost to find him/her. I can’t wait for that day.