Part 9

The day after the news that we would need to seek fertility treatment, I was on a plane to Orlando.  I had no time to process or grieve or even think about it.  The next five days were a blur.  I was on my feet most of the day at the conference and by the end of the day my incisions were throbbing.  I’d go up to my hotel room, take a pain pill, and fail asleep in minutes.  I was glad that Saturday to be on a plane back home for awhile.  I needed to heal.

When I returned home, I went back to the doctor because my other (lower) incision was really bothering me.  The stitches weren’t coming out or dissolving on their own and I was having sharp pain, pretty consistently.  I was prescribed another round of antibiotics and some warm compresses and within a few days, I was able to pull the stitches out myself – nothing like taking matters into your own hands.  The incision IMMEDIATELY felt better.

Now that I was feeling somewhat back to normal, I could focus on the new task at hand – making an appointment with Dr. Carnovale.  It was only about 10 days after my follow-up appointment with Dr. Bean, but I already felt like I’d waited forever.

I climbed into the car that morning to head to a meeting.  On my way, I called Dr. Carnovale.  His office director, Jodi answers the phone, “Community Fertility Specialists, Office of Dr. Carnovale, this is Jodi speaking.”

“uhhh, hi, I was referred by my OBGYN to Dr. Carnovale.  I need to make an appointment for a consultation.”

Typing on the other end.

Jody then responds, “Okay, it looks like the next available new patient appointment we have is the week of February 6th.”

What?!?!  Uhhh, today is December 12th, you want me to wait until February?

“I’m sorry, there’s just a little bit of a wait for new patients because it’s only Dr. Carnovale.”

We finally settle on February 10th.  Jodi instructs me expect some forms in the mail to fill out and return before my appointment.  I hang up the phone and immediately call Ben.

“Hey.  I just called Dr. Carnovale’s office.  Monday, February 10th is the earliest we can get in.”

Ben replies, “Wow.  Okay, well, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing and wait.  I’m glad you called.  I guess it was urgent that we called right away, but now we’ll just wait.”

Several days later, I receive a large packet of paperwork in the mail.  It’s the paperwork from Dr. Carnovale.  Most of the paperwork asks the basic health history, problems, how long you’ve been trying, how long your periods are, are you in pain, etc.  On the last two pages of the forms, however, it get’s a little personal.

Listen, I’m all for vulnerability when it had purpose – when it can help people or shine light on an issue.  I’m all for vulnerability when I am in meaningful dialogue with people – building friendship.  I am NOT a fan of sharing deeply personal feelings on a piece of paper for complete strangers (some of you probably find irony in that statement – but these questions didn’t seem to have purpose for the sake of my consultation).

There were four questions that really rubbed me in particular:

“How are you dealing emotionally with not being able to have a baby?”  I’m fine.

“Has your relationship with you partner been affected by your infertility?” No.

“Please tell us anything you feel is important for us to know about in advance of your visit.”  Please review my health history from referring physician Dr. Bean

“Do you have any fears or concerns about your upcoming visit.” No.

I, am an open book – clearly.  I finish the document, scan it, and email it back to Jodi that day.

The months pass by and I keep myself busy with work and conferences.  Ben and I keep trying naturally, but nothing is happening.  The only change is that my pain is significantly decreased.  I feel a ton better, but it feels like this dark cloud is hanging over my head.

On Saturday, February 8th, Jodi from Dr. Carnovale’s office calls me.  “Hi Jessica.  It’s Jodi from Dr. Carnovale’s office.  Dr. Carnovale needs to be in surgery on the 10th, we’ll need to reschedule your appointment.”

What?

But I’ve already waited this long.

Luckily, Dr. Carnovale is able to get me in the next day.  So on February 11th, Ben and I walk into Community Fertility Specialists – Office of Dr. Carnovale not knowing what our future holds, but knowing that it’s left entirely in the hands of a man we’ve never met.

Generally, it is a day of promise and hope.  Ben and I are finally going to get some answers.  We’re ready to move swiftly and aggressively into growing our family.  We are coming ready to hear that our most viable option is In Vitro Fertilization (IVF).  We have done our research.  We knew the cost, we knew the timeline, we felt like we already knew everything we needed to know to hit the “GO” button on building our family – TODAY.

Endometriosis is a nasty disease and it impacts fertility greatly.  Yet, we are optimistic that we are still be able to get started since I had just had the endometriosis removed in November.    Aside, Dr. Carnovale is one of the highest rated fertility doctors in the country, ranking in the top ten year after year.  His success rates are well above the national average, especially for women under 35.    All the signs point to the outcome we are expecting from today – we’d have some tests run and begin IVF treatment in the coming weeks.  With any luck, I’d be pregnant by April.  We – for the most part – feel hopeful today.

We sit down in a tiny waiting room of about 10 chairs and wait for our turn.  The waiting room is quiet and empty.  I’m nervous.

The door to the “office” side opens and there’s a tall, skinny, woman with long red hair pulled into a ponytail standing in the doorway.  She’s smiling ear-to-ear and says in the perkiest voice, “Jessica?”

I smile back as Ben and I stand up and walk over to her.

“Hi, I’m Sarah, Dr. Carnovale’s nurse.”

Her voice is sugar-sweet and she’s smiling a lot.  I want to dislike her, but there’s something completely authentic and endearing about her energy.  I can’t help but feel happy – and uncomfortable at the same time.

Sarah leads Ben and I into an exam room and instructs me to strip down, put on the gown, and take a seat on the table.  Dr. Carnovale is going to do the exam first.

Ugh.  “Strip down…put on a gown…exam.”  Words I’m tired of hearing.

I get undressed, put on a gown, and take a seat on the exam table.

Then, a few seconds later, a knock on the door.

In walks Sarah (still smiling) and Dr. Carnovale.  He’s a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair of average height.  He’s quiet, reserved, intentional, and professional.  What he lacks in bedside manner he makes up for in success rates.  He barely cracks a smile and gets immediately and efficiently to the task at hand.  I don’t dislike him for it, but I miss the congeniality of Dr. Bean at that moment.

Dr. Carnovale asks a few questions about my health history, how we got to his office, then immediately gets started on the exam.

Sarah begins asking about my job – they googled me and the company I work for.  She was a sorority woman in college and shows an immediate interest in what I do asking lots of questions while they set up for – ANOTHER – pelvic ultrasound.  No matter how many times you have them – you never get used to it.  There’s nothing natural about a curling iron sized probe digging aground in your uterus.

Dr. Carnovale asks me to lay back on the table and begins the ultrasound – aka digging around in my uterus with a probe – fun.

As I lay on the table of the exam room, attempting to have casual conversation with the doctor and the nurse (as casual as you can have with your legs spread wide apart in stirrups), they began asking me about my surgery in November.

“How do you do on anesthesia?”

“How was surgery recovery?”

“How long did it take you to feel back to normal?”

All the while they’re asking questions, Dr. Carnovale is snapping pictures and printing them off the ultrasound machine.

He asks me to sit back up and says, “Well Jessica, I have some bad news….”

“You’re going to have to have surgery again.”