- She's a woman.
- She didn't poo-poo my desire to use my own eggs. She let me choose, and embraced that choice.
- She immediately saw what could be done differently (i.e. better) than what my last RE did.
- She's super knowledgeable
I'm still totally onboard with my decision—really I am. It's just that last reason that's got me a little frazzled. My RE could dazzle you with the amount of fertility knowledge she can rattle off in the matter of a few seconds of conversation. And she often does. But I've moved on from 'dazzled' and am now at 'fed-up'. Because that's just the problem—she won't shut the eff up!
Another reason I chose her which didn't make the above list, is because she recently broke away from a group of other doctors to start her own practice; meaning—she's hungry for new patients. Considering my last RE's office was more like Grand Central Station and I was lucky to get a decent nurse on the phone—let alone the doc himself—I saw her uber-availability and super-attentiveness as a huge plus. But now that positive has turned into a negative, and I feel like I'm drowning in her rhetoric and "medicalese"—a language I have yet to decipher.
Like yesterday, for example. I've taken to returning her calls during walks down the busy street my office is on. (My boss and cube-mates really do not need to know about my IVF). It's hard enough to hear her over the police car sirens and chattering tourists that are a constant in downtown San Francisco. But after listening to her rattle off my drug options auctioneer-style ("Can-I-get-a-down-regulated-cycle? Antagonist-protocol-going-once,-going-twice"), my ovaries are spinning. What the hell does it all mean, lady? And can I please get a frickin' word in edgewise??
It comes down to this—I need to be heard and understood by my doc because at the end of the day, this is my body and my decision. If she'd stop jabbering long enough to let me ask my questions, maybe—and this is a big maybe—I could get some answers. Preferably in English.
