The last line counts.


Had a bad experience at the doctor’s. The piece of shit teenage doctor clearly knew next-to-nothing about pregnancy, and NOTHING about IVF.

Me: Hiya, I’m just over six weeks pregnant from IVF, and this is my first baby.

Him: Was this pregnancy planned?

Him: About how far along are you?

Him: Is this your first child?

What the fuck, right? He also miscalculated my due date by 2 weeks, even when I explained to him how to figure things out via IVF. But he really made me doubt myself, so I didn’t challenge him as much as I could have.

He also said I need to pick the hospital I want to give birth in now, so he can refer me. He said I won’t see a midwife until 12 weeks. Another hearty round of ‘what the fuck’ can be inserted here, as I really should see a midwife before 12 weeks. He also refused to write me a prescription for progesterone without a letter from our private clinic. Yeah, like I’m just in this for the free progesterone and the great side effects.

Stupid fucker.

All this culminated with me crying afterwards in public. AWESOME.

Things have calmed down slightly and I’m feeling more in control. Hoping to go visit a hospital maternity ward tomorrow (what the fuck, again, I’m only six weeks pregnant! And I don’t think they have water birth there! I don’t know if I want a water birth, but I don’t want options cut out from under me!). Cross your fingers the tour is running even though it’s new year.

That fucking doctor tried to refer me to our closest hospital, which no longer has a maternity ward. AWESOME TIMES TWO.

Feeling more sane now, but still pissed off. The Plan: call our good, expensive clinic tomorrow (while wishing we were rich and could afford private antenatal care) and ask for a letter re: progesterone. Also ask them for some confirmation re: due dates. If theirs match with mine, ask them to pop that information into the letter. Call the hospital in the morning to see if the tour is on and if there is room, and then hopefully take a nice drive up the road and wander around to watch women screaming while babies fly out of their pee-pees.

Maybe do some bra shopping on the way back.

Apparently pregnant women are supposed to wear non-underwire bras. I don’t know what size I am anymore. I do know that after trying on five bras I got Angry White Albino Nipple on the left side, and the pain was pretty fucking intense.


TMD is a miracle in my life.

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9 Responses to “The last line counts.”

  1. Juice-ica Says:

    Wtf, man. Well, he was no help at all. Retard. :/ Isn’t there another doctor you could go to instead? Perhaps the clinic could suggest one that’s well-versed in IVF & what not?

  2. existere Says:

    The way it works here is that you can only register with your local GP. There are a few choices, and I registered with the biggest practice. So there is more than one GP, I just happened to see a shitty one.

  3. Tatiana Says:

    Wow, he needs to be reported to his superiors for being absolutely ignorant and having NO PLACE dealing with pregnant women. What a fucking moron. I’d refuse to see him again. Also, great idea on getting a letter from your clinic :]

  4. Tatiana Says:

    I meant more for the due date confirmation thing, I should have clarified.

    How is the IVF due date calculated?

  5. FallenAngel Says:

    “Him: Was this pregnancy planned?”

    WTF… no i just happened to fall on a few needles and BLAM the next thing i know i’m having a baby!

    did he graduate from clown collage or something ?

  6. mrsfinn Says:

    I hope you don’t mind the language, but that doc is a douchebag!!!

    WTF?? “Was this pregnancy planned??”

    Next time ask him is his lobotomy was planned.

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