Dr. King's office called today, just as we were returning from our third-anniversary trip to the lake. Heather was watching Sister Wives, wherein the fourth wife is now pregnant with the husband's seventeenth child. Her belly is big and they've named the boy Solomon.
The nurse, who struck me as ethereally beautiful when we met her last week, said she'd called the fertility office to set up an appointment and learned, as we did, the Dr. Duddy was no longer in practice, and that we should talk to the office to set up a consultation. I said, well, we heard they wouldn't work with us. She confirmed: "No, they're affiliated with the Baptist hospital, so they can't do anything to get you pregnant. However, they can talk to you about your options."
The nurse was sweet and said she suggested we go in for the consultation, and I said okay. Heather shrugged, saying we might as well, even though I'm thinking that consultations are all we've had for months. Talking and testing; not so much treating.
I looked up the Nashville clinic and e-mailed the folks there. It seems like they're the only people who can put things in action, so, you know, we'll talk to the Baptist people, but there's not much point in waiting on them.
The Nashville clinic says a full IVF cycle runs $8,800. Heather read somewhere about a clinic that charged $18,000 for three cycles, and somewhere else that will give you 70% of your money back if you don't get pregnant. I'm not sure what happens after that, but it makes her happy to think about.