Full Circle

I had a very interesting experience today. I went back to visit the doctor's office that made little Baby Schnell possible. The reason for my visit was to drop off my leftover, unopened medicines and syringes to be donated to an IVF patient that doesn't have insurance. I won't mention the doctor's name here since I am unsure about the legality of donating medicine and I would never want to get him in trouble. However, he and his staff will get a full, fawning post at a later date because without them we wouldn't have a baby to blog about!

Anyway, for those of you fortunate enough not to know about the IVF business, the medicines are extremely expensive. The medicines alone for the cycles we did cost in excess of $7000. The actual procedures probably ran about $20,000 each. The actual submissions to our insurance company were over $50,000. There are many, many people who have absolutely no coverage for fertility medicines or procedures. They pay out of pocket for the pleasure of being poked and prodded at without any guarantee of coming home with a baby. I am not commenting on whether insurance should pay for this type of stuff, because I can understand how cost prohibitive it is. I am just sharing it as background. Not only is the process physically, mentally and emotionally draining, but for many couples, financially draining as well. I know of many people that take out loans, remortgage their homes, give up all discretionary spending etc. to save up for even one IVF cycle.

Luckily, we are fortunate that Adam works for a phenomenal company that not only paid for every dime of our procedures, but for all of the medicine as well. This coupled with the fact that we live in a city with access to some of the world's best doctors and labs made our journey much easier than others. Many people travel hours just to reach the one specialist that serves their area (and do this trip many times over the course of a cycle), and we had our choice of experts within 30 minutes of our home. For all of these things and more, we realize how lucky we are.

Anyway, I have had about $2000 worth of medicine sitting in our refrigerator for months. I had always meant to drop it off, but always hesitated for some reason. Perhaps I was waiting to be out of the woods, or for it actually to feel real and permanent. But it always bothered me that here I was hoarding something that I didn't even pay for, that could make such a difference in another couple's life. Now that I passed the six month mark, it finally seemed like time. And the medicines carry an expiration date, so I needed to get moving to ensure their usefulness.

I was a little nervous to go to the office. I was hesitant to walk into an office filled with couples currently struggling with fertility with a visibly pregnant belly. And believe me, this office is always filled. My nervousness may seem a little silly to some of you, but I think I can speak for a large majority of "fertility-challenged" people in saying that the site of a pregnant person does not bring forth unmitigated joy. These are people that live in dread of surprise pregnancy announcements, which usually include "It happened the first month!", baby showers, children's birthday parties and the incessant questions about when they are going to have kids. To bring it onto their turf seemed a little cruel.

I covered up a little bit with my extra large purse and asked for my favorite nurse, Sue at the front desk. I heard her talking in the background with our doctor, so I was excited to see them both. They both came to the front and seemed genuinely pleased to see one of their "graduates," especially one bearing a computer bag full of expensive medicines. I spoke with the doctor briefly about how things were going and then went into a back office with Sue and another nurse. They were both very happy with the things that I brought and assured me they could be put to good use. Sue then asked about my progress and inquired about how things were going with our new apartment. It made me happy to realize that she remembered things that we had spoken about and that we were not just a number in her busy day. She also made me promise that we would bring the baby to the office to see her, instead of just sending the requisite picture and birth announcement for their "wall of babies."

As I left, I felt a little sad for the people that were still sitting in the literal and proverbial "waiting room," who were still not sure how their journey was going to end. But I also felt a sense of closure for us, at being able to put that part of our life behind us, at least for now. I then had a little celebratory lunch at the diner that Adam and I often used as a meeting place before appointments, or went to breakfast after early morning exams. It was nice to just go there and have a peaceful lunch, and not have to be worried about what was to come or mulling over seemingly bad test results. It felt that a weight had been lifted and that we had truly come full circle.