Prioritizing Concerns

Because the Universe's middle name is Ironic, I decided to dip a FRER in some pee this morning. Just to see what would happen. Because finding out that I'm pregnant two days before our first RE appointment would be a quintessential display of cosmic comedy.

One line. Duh. So I stuffed the test stick into the garbage next to the toilet and stumbled over to my computer to check email and make sure the world hadn't blown up while I slept. Then back to the bathroom to shower and, well, dig through the trash and take another peek at the pee-stick. Nope, still one line. Raise your hand if you were surprised. Not even a little bit? Yeah, me neither.

Now that that is out of the way, I'd like to dwell for a moment on a particular topic of concern in starting our RE journey. Not the tests, or the drugs, or the needles, though all of those are quite worrisome individually and downright terror-inflicting when taken as a package deal. But, no, the current matter of interest is Dr. Q.

Dr. Q, you see, is a man. I haven't had a male doctor since I was about nine years old, and I'm not looking forward to the change. I don't have an issue discussing any of my medical concerns with a male doctor. I'm a fairly blunt person, and don't expect to blush at the mention of various parts of my anatomy or dicussion of my sex life. I am of the general opinion that a female doctor is better able to relate to a female patient's symptoms - to understand what uterine cramping feels like, for example - but I don't think that this universally excludes men from being able to provide an excellent standard of care. But even with a female doctor, there is no guarantee that she will have had first-person experiences that relate to my own medical issues. And, after all, I don't think that a surgical oncologist must have battled cancer herself in order to effectively remove a tumor...so why should I seek out a doctor who has ovaries and a uterus (and, particularly, malfunctioning ovaries and a uterus) for my reproductive care?

I don't know, but I wanted to. Unfortunately, the clinic we want to work with has only one female doctor on its staff, and she doesn't even see patients at our closest location. Besides, Dr. Q was specifically recommended to us, and he has extensive experience (and continuing research interest) in working with women with ovulatory issues. So, on balance, it's probably the right move.

Then there's the other concern - you know, the part where I get (semi-)naked with this man on a regular basis? I know there will always be a nurse in the room and Ezra can be with me for some (most?) procedures and maybe they'll give me trippy drugs or something and it's all professional and doctors do this stuff all day and yadda yadda yadda. ("But you yadda yadda'd over the best part!" No, I mentioned the drugs.) Still, I don't generally let guys (Ezra excluded) poke around in the nether-regions, and I really am not anxious to start. I know that a standard part of the IF journey is getting over your sense of privacy in this area, and I don't consider it an objective loss of dignity (any moreso than letting my female PCP do a routine pelvic exam on me), but there's a psychological barrier to get over. I think I'm going to need a stiff drink before every appointment.

...which leads me to another thing. (Will this post ever end?) We have yet to speak to the doctor on this particular point, but the clinic's website has a helpful list of Things You Can Do To Help Achieve the Goal of Becoming Pregnant, presented in order of relative importance. Three of the top four items? "Avoid alcohol completely." "Avoid caffeine completely." "Improve management of the stress in your life." After we all have a good chuckle at the futility of that last item, and pause to mourn the passage of Starbucks from my list of special treats (but think of the money we'll save!), let's move on to the question of alcohol.

I like my booze. I don't drink to excess. I'm not a wino, or a drunk...not even close to being in danger of becoming an alcoholic. I don't need a dram of Scotch to get me through the evening, or a glass of wine with every meal, but I enjoy them both, and not for the buzz. If there were some way to perfectly replicate the taste and texture and aroma of my favorite drinks in alcohol-free forms, I would probably be satisfied with such a solution. And, no, I don't want a drink more than I want a baby. But I also don't want to give up one of the simple pleasures of my existence for what could be years on end without some damn good proof that I'm doing it with good cause. Would the clinic tell me to eschew ice cream, or to "avoid cheesecake completely?" I suppose they might, but I suspect the more realistic approach would be something like: Consuming high-fat, high-sugar dairy-based desserts in large quantities has a detrimental effect on your overall fertility. You should limit yourself to just one of these desserts per week, and not have any within the week preceeding and following ovulation/IUI/transfer. And, you know what? I'd follow that direction. To a T. I'd even measure out my desserts with a kitchen scale if they told me it was necessary. Likewise with the alcohol. But I have yet to be convinced that I need to eliminate it "completely." I'll give Dr. Q a chance to prove it to me, and I'll give all of you a chance to soften me up on it. Or not, as you see fit.

Finally, there's a little more than 48 hours to go until this appointment (following which I hope to bestow Dr. Q with a more fitting moniker). There have been some great tips in the comments, and I'd appreciate more if you have any. I'd especially love to hear from the other frum/Orthodox/whatever Jewish patients out there about how you first broached halachic concerns with your REs...though of course I want to hear from everyone. I'm a comment whore like that.