It's not me. It's you.
It's just not working out anymore, you know? It's gotten monotonous. We don't try new things, and it just feels the same––month after month.
I know, things have been getting more complicated and complex as time goes on. We don't want to hurt your feelings, but we really just think it's time to move on and see what else is out there. In fact, we've already started seeing someone new
You're going to make lots of other people really happy, just not us. Thanks for trying.
We broke up with our fertility clinic earlier this month.
Well, we haven't officially told them yet, but we already started going somewhere new and had all of our medical records transferred over the last time we were at the clinic. So, they probably know it's coming.
On January 11, Brian and I had a consultation with the University of Iowa Health Care Center for Advanced Reproductive Care. We scheduled the appointment with an open mind and just wanted to get a second opinion.
Side note: Be an advocate for yourself and never feel bad about getting a second opinion.
University of Iowa opened a location in West Des Moines in November 2020. I'd heard a few rumblings here and there about it, but never really looked into the clinic. But after all we've dealt with these past few months, I told Brian I wanted to at least talk to someone else and get a different perspective.
Once we pulled into the parking lot, the tears started streaming down my face.
Were we really going to rehash all we've been through the past 3 years with a brand new clinic and brand new doctor?
Is this something we really want to do?
Is it too late to turn around and go home?
Brian says, "Come on, babe, let's just go in and see what they have to say."
We checked in at the front desk, filled out paperwork and waited.
The waiting room was brightly lit, the chairs were colorful, and there was country music playing over the speaker system.
It was different already.
An extremely cheerful nurse called us back to a room. She took me to get my vitals (I always hate this part of any appointment because I absolutely loathe stepping on the scale).
I got on the scale and looked at the number. It was in kilograms. I have no idea if they do this on purpose, but I don't know how to convert kilograms to pounds in my head and I'm not trying to learn anytime soon.
This is the first time that seeing this number didn't ruin my day.
Back in the room, we gave a cliff notes version of our infertility journey to the nurse. I made it clear that we were just here to talk to the doctor and get a second opinion. No tests or ultrasounds today, please.
"It's just so bright in here."
Brian will tell you, I couldn't get over how different the lighting was compared to our other fertility clinic. They must use LED lights or something. And there was an actual WINDOW in the room we were in.
Courtney, the PA, came in and sat at the table with us. She's young (like, younger than us) but I could tell right away that she knows her stuff.
She had obviously studied and reviewed our files. She'd taken notes. She asked thoughtful questions. She was empathetic. She was hopeful. She listened. She answered all the questions I had written down, even the hard ones (what sets you apart from our current clinic?).
Next thing I know, I'm on my way to the ultrasound room for a transvaginal ultrasound.
If you've been following our journey, you know I'm no stranger to the transvaginal ultrasounds. I've had more of those than I can even count, done by more nurses than I care to think about.
There comes a point in this journey where modesty about body parts and lady parts has left the building––I'm way past that point––my modesty is gone, and I'm not sure if it'll ever come back.
But my goodness. This ultrasound was a totally different experience than what I'm used to.
First: There is a BATHROOM in the ultrasound room. I am able to empty my bladder and leave my pants and other belongings in the bathroom and not sitting on a chair in the exam room.
Second: There is a TV SCREEN within sight of the exam table I am laying on. Brian and I can watch that screen instead of gathering our heads around the same screen the nurse is looking at.
Third (and perhaps the best of all): They have LINEN SHEETS to cover up with. No paper sheets here, folks.
I'm like, "Linen sheets? Where do I sign?" #IYKYK
After the ultrasound, we headed back to the room to circle up with Courtney. While we were waiting for her, Brian said, "Well, we're switching right?"
I replied, "Don't you think we should talk about it when we get in the truck?"
And he said, "I can just tell by your face that you like it better here. You seem so much happier. Everyone is so nice. It's all women here. I think we both know we need to make the switch."
And I said, "Yeah, and it's just so BRIGHT in here."
We Made a Plan
We have 2 vials of sperm left.
The ultrasound shows I ovulated ON MY OWN with no hormones.
We are going to do at least one more donor sperm IUI.
WITH NO HORMONES!
They're going to check me more often to ensure we don't miss the window for insemination.
We also scheduled an appointment discuss IVF with the Reproductive Endocrinologist in March.
Next Steps
Bloodwork on Day 3 of my cycle to check hormone levels (✅, levels are all normal!!)
Sonohysterogram (at my request) to ensure there are no new polyps on my uterus prior to our next IUI
Figure out how to get our sperm from Clive to West Des Moines (roughly 4 miles) without having to pay $750 in shipping fees
We bleed black and gold in this house, so I guess we shouldn't be surprised that we're making the switch!
