I went to The Fancy Clinic for my HSG test which was to test the uterine lining to make sure there are no polyps or anything to prevent pregnancy. It’s a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) is an X-ray test that looks at the inside of the uterus and fallopian tubes. During a HYSTEROSALPHINGOGRAM dye is put into the fallopian tubes. Pictures are taken as the dye passes through the uterus and fallopian tubes. The pictures can show problems such as an abnormal structure of the uterus or fallopian tubes, or a blockage that would prevent an egg moving through a fallopian tube to the uterus.
Linda smiled in her soft, passive way, and motioned for me to follow her.
“Crying is OK,” Dan repeated, “and it’s OK for people to be emotional and cry, right?”
“Of course” Linda finally answered as she led me to the test room. “What a great friend,” Linda said to me as we walk down the hall. It was the first time I felt that Linda wasn’t following a Dr.X Handbook on how to be a good little assistant. She actually seemed human.
“Yes, he is.”
I went in to the room where Dr. X was waiting. I was hopeful that I’d like him better today, but no such luck. H did smile and actually look at me, one time, but it was when he said that I should really do IVF (again) and I said, “Because I’m old?” and he said, “Well if your’e old, I’m old because we were the SAME age!” Smile.
I went back into the lobby to pay. This test cost about a thousand dollars.
Then I told Dan that we should talk to Abby about all of the crazy lawyer and third party donor crap.
When I asked for Abby, I was told that Barbara was the person we should see today instead. I was sort of relieved. I felt like Abby didn’t know what she was doing.
A proper looking woman in a Christmas sweater came out. Her hair was short and everything about her reminded me of a librarian at an elementary school. This was Barbara. She took us into the same office where I met with Abby.
“Abby went over all the paper work with me,” I said. “This is Dan, my third party donor.” I assumed I was using the lingo correctly.
Barbara scrunched her nose and nodded slowly.
“I’m having some trouble with the lawyers on this list.” I continued. “And I don’t really understand why we need lawyers. Dan is my best friend. We are not in a relationship, but he will be a part of the baby’s life.”
“I’m gay,” Dan says, as he always does, with pride and information.
“But we are not co parenting,” I added.
Barbara stared at us as if we’ve told her we want to raise a monkey together. “Oh.”
I continued, “Some of the lawyers on this list don’t know how to deal with that. And the other lawyers on this list never called me back.”
Barbara looked at the paper, perplexed. “Oh. Huh.”
“So, I don’t know what to do… as far as the lawyers go.”
We sat for a few minutes and Barbara shifted through papers and made “hmmm,” sounds. “Riiiiiight, so…. You think this will work out?”
“OK,” Barbara says. “So, everything is in order.” She started to leave.
“No, no, wait… not really,” I said, “What about the lawyer thing?”
“Oh right,” Barbara said, sitting back down. “Um. I don’t know.” She looked pained and uncomfortable. “This is an unusual situation.”
I was really surprised. Was this so weird? Was my life so crazy strange? Was she telling me I was a freak? Doesn’t this situation sound kind of normal, as far as single moms go? Also, what about Will and Grace? Weren’t they going to have a baby on that show? I mean, really?! Why is this so weird?
“Yes, but they have sperm banks or 3rd party donors.”
“Don’t I have a 3rd party donor?”
“You have a known donor,” she says, “But those are usually husbands, who are just giving samples to use for IUI or IVF.”
Barbara pressed her lips together as if she’d been presented with a really hard Sudoku. “Well, if you’ve been best friends for so long, then why don’t you two just have sex?”
THIS is the best fertility clinic in Los Angeles? The idea that someone who works in a place like this would say something so unprofessional, ignorant and intrusive, is appalling… especially when it comes as a result of her being baffled at her own job.
“OK,” Barbara said,oblivious at her own rudeness. She bumbled around and stuttered, “Well, why don’t I just treat you as a known donor then.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“You won’t need any of this.” She took the folder back.
“I’m still going to do all these test,” Dan says, holding up the sheet of paper.
“OK, whatever you want,” Barbara says. She didn’t care anymore. She was done with us.
“Do I still need the psychologist letter?”
“No,” Barbara said as she stood up. She’s had been ready for us to get out of our office the second we walked in.
Dan and I stood up. “Will you make sure everyone here know this? Will you put it in my chart that Dan is a known donor, not a third party donor?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I mean, I don’t want there to be any problems.”
“Right. OK,” Barbara said.
Dan and I left the clinic. “That was so annoying and weird,” I said. “But at least we are done with that and done with Barbara.”