I am a ray of sunshine.*UPDATED*

Thursday the Actually and I have an appointment with a psychologist at our fertility clinic. This appointment is required before we can proceed with IVF. The initial 60 minute session will cost $160, and should the psychologist feel further sessions are necessary, she can insist upon up to two more. Alternatively, she may decide to require us to complete poorly written psychological tests for another $150.
Is it just me, or do you find this offensive?

I have nothing against fertility clinics retaining psychologists; in fact, I think it is a fine idea. IVF is stressful, and having a psychologist available at the clinic may make couples more likely to seek counseling if they need it. I might not even object to a mandatory meeting with said counselor, for the purpose of discussing coping skills and stress-reduction techniques, or just to let the couple know what services are available. Unfortunately, the content of my clinic’s psychological consult has little to do with helping couples manage the stress of treatment. From what I have heard from my own therapist and other patients of Really-expensive Medicine Center, the staff psychologist is “obsessed” (their words) with “family of orig!n” issues. In other words, whether or not your father yelled at you, your uncle drank too much, your second cousin once removed liked to slice herself with boxcutters. You know, all of the issues most pertinent to my decision to seek medical treatment for a medical condition.

I know it is in my best interest to remain calm and not call the woman a nosy cunt, and so that is going to be my goal. I aim high, you see.

Also on Thursday is the Actually’s updated semen analysis. His results last time were very good, but in the past month or so he has had a testicular issue that has necessitated multiple visits to an urologist. I haven’t written much about it and don’t intend to, as it isn’t really my business to post about other people’s genitals on the Internet. Not everyone has the shameless lack of boundaries I have, you know. Suffice it to say that I am very, very nervous about the outcome of this test.

While we are on the topic of things that irk or frighten me, the other day I bought one of those wee vanilla ice cream cups only to see printed on the top “WARNING: CONTAINS MILK PRODUCTS.” I was, frankly, insulted. Have you met anyone stupid enough to benefit from this warning? Because if such people exist, I feel that we should not be preventing them from being winnowed out by putting warnings on ice cream. Let natural selection do its work. Perhaps if we get rid of these people we can also get rid of those who necessitate the “NOT FOR INTERNAL USE” warnings on pregnancy tests.

And speaking of pregnancy tests, in case my tone hasn’t tipped you off, I am not pregnant. Not at all. I even went out and bought some more expensive test sticks, in case the only thing separating me from a positive result was $10. Ok, $20. The tests all agree, my temperature is sliding downward, and my mythical “symptoms” disappeared as soon as I saw the first negative. Except for my sore left breast, which I actually BRUISED by poking it so often. I would post a picture, but I need to retain a little mystique, right?

UPDATE: So, this morning I took my temperature and it had jumped almost a degree to an all time high of 99.2. Naturally, I then proceeded to take two more pregnancy tests, which were negative. I am 13 days past ovulation, and suspiciously free of spotting. This can not possibly be good. I don’t know what to do–wait and see what happens tomorrow? Go in for a beta? Drink myself into happy oblivion?