We went to the fertility doc yesterday. I can't look upon what was discussed as bad news, but there were surprises. I had already steeled myself for the fact that the low prices that he advertises on his website are designed to get you in the door, but it was still a shock...the average "procedure" costs at least $13K. And this is still a far cry from what the average adoption costs (private adoption of an actual baby, you're looking in the neighborhood of $35-$50K). I get that these are ballpark figures, that if we went the foster care route, it would probably be cheaper and at least initially result in a stipend to offset costs; but we're not there yet.
Then there's the fact that thanks to my age and PCOS (mainly my age), it's a better option to go with donor eggs than my own. With my own eggs, there's a much greater chance of miscarriage or it not taking at all. That hurt...he talked about how because it grows inside you, they are finding that donor eggs do retain characteristics and IQs of the parents wanting the baby...but it took a bit of time for me to warm to that idea. And I ache that my genetics wouldn't fully be in the picture.
Things sink in, in stages. Yesterday it was all about "where the hell are we gonna come up with $13K?!" My stock options are worth less than $3K at present, and that's our only nest egg. Today, I'm looking at things with a longer eye, and I itch to discuss it with Husby more.
Because if we're honest with ourselves, there's no way we want to bring a child into that apartment. It's filthy and ancient, and no amount of cleaning would change that. It needs things that the complex wouldn't be willing to invest in while we're still there (carpet, fridge, W/D connections that pass code, fresh paint, new cabinets, etc.)...so does that mean that moving should still be #1 on the list? And if so, then here or further north? We both want to get closer to family, I know that; so I think I can keep talking SC with him...especially given his Dad's tenuous health. It's just so scary to continue to place a child on the back burner in the interests of giving said child a real home. Your average fertility specialist only works with women up to age 48.
Les will lament how much OT dough we blew last year, when we could have been saving. I won't let him; I can't think that way, only ahead. What can we do without, sell, etc. to get us saving? It's absolutely infuriating that it takes this kind of shakabuku to get me to see what we can do without. I see red, thinking about how much we piss money away in the interests of hedonism. And I damn sure am done letting my Starbucks and Chipotle cravings keep me from the possibility of a better home or a child.
I've declared a moratorium on all eating out and had already promised no new purse purchases this year (for other reasons)...we're down to our last car payment, and I'll give up the Y in favor of walking and in-home weights and yoga. The tax return will help, but not nearly enough...we have to purchase a new vacuum cleaner and save for the car property taxes. There's not a lot we have worth selling, but our lifestyle is getting a major overhaul in the coming weeks. I'm so fucking ready.
Image from here.
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