So, where was I? Oh, yes.
Getting Knocked-Up: bad.
I'm glad that I'm with a fella who not only accepts this decision but accepts my health issues as a whole and is there when I need him. He even put on a dress shirt when he met TEAM RACHAEL! for the first time (collective "D'awwwww!"). Not that he really has a say in my lady business anyway, or that I'd ever be with a guy who needed his woman to give birth to His Offspring. I'm a Strong Black Woman (minus being black) and I ain't got time to deal with a man's ego about his legacy. My guy wouldn't mind passing on his genetics, but he's a big believer in surrogacy.
I don't want to get in on the drama that has been Going to the Lady Doctor and my history with trying to get my Lady Doctor to settle down, stop running off and having babies and take my insurance, goddamnit. She's always been a supporter of me getting a tubal litigation. I kept in on my mental back burner up until the top of 2011, when I wanted to just check out my other options. Through a mistake of my own making I ended up having to go and see another Lady Doctor - same office, but across the way. My mother sees her. We'll call her Dr. Melonbrains.
Dr. Melonbrains was a pussy and kind of a moron. She was terrified of my heart condition and while she believed I should have a more permanent, let's-not-rely-on-shitty-birth-control-pills-forever form of birth control, the way she talked about birth control was as if it had taken part in the Holocaust and now enjoyed a lonely but well liquored exile in a South American country.
"I'm not comfortable prescribing birth control to you." Her exact words.
Her fear was well-meaning, but definitely overblown. I had been on blood thinners since October of 2002 and this made her nervous. Birth control had little to nothing to do with my need to go on them, especially because at that time I was on a pill that had no estrogen.
She kept pushing for an IUD. The way she talked about it I thought rainbows and sparkling unicorns would be positioned across the lining of my uterus, warding off any would-be fetus cocktail with their magical powers.
"OK," I sighed, realizing I needed to say something vaguely affirmative just to get her to let me put my pants back on. "Listen, I can't make any decisions like this on my own. I have to run it by TEAM RACHAEL! If they give me the OK, I'll go through with it."
That shut her up and she sent me on my way. I was so eager to get the hell out dodge that I forgot to inquire about my pills. No problem, I figured. I'd just order them through my pharmacy and they'd get the prescription. I mean, I went to my Obligatory Lady Check-Up, so it was her turn to make good.
Well. Turns out when she said, "I'm not prescribing birth control pills to you." what she obviously meant was, "THIS BITCH IS GONNA CLOT ANY SECOND AND SUE YOUR DUMB ASS FOR PRESCRIBING BIRTH CONTROL PILLS!"
Her fanatical fear was not unlike a four year old's fear of the boogie-man. It would have been adorable if it weren't me being denied the one form of birth control I'd known and relied on since the age of 17.
I was flabbergasted. Who the hell was she to overwrite what my cardiologists had already approved of? True, I'd like to break free from the pills, but not without a solid back-up plan already set in stone! Aggravated, but feeling like this was the match lit under my butt to stop worrying about whatever pain I may or may not be in when I get the IUD in and confer with TEAM RACHAEL! They were very supportive of an IUD, gave me their blessing and I had it scheduled for the first week of February.
Tuesday, February First: IUD goes in.
Saturday, February Fifth: IUD self-aborts.
to be continued