On Sunday, September 13 - which happened to be Grandparents' Day - we had our second FET. We transferred one Day 6 Hatching Blastocyst that looks vastly different than Frostie Tess. Instead of a small island or vaguely egg shaped mass, this one was a perfect figure 8 more than half out of its shell; a real eager beaver, this kid. We've named it "Ocho" because of its unique shape.
Transfer went more or less the same as last time, though they made us wait until nearly 10 AM to find out what time to report. We now now why but more on that in a moment. We arrived at 1:00 PM, updated our consent forms, and then very quickly were ushered downstairs to the surgical waiting area. Within three minutes, we were taken back to transfer room 2, across the hall from the corner room where we were places in January 2014. My bladder was full, I got my Valium, and we waited f-o-r-e-v-e-r for the traveling circus. It was at least 45 minutes of discomfort but it went relatively quickly once we started watching comedy sketches to get the blood flowing.
When the circus came to town, it was all female. The sonographer was in first, followed by the embryologist, then the nurse, then Dr. Constantini. She was very calming and warm, breaking some tough news in the nicest possible way.
Unfortunately, we learned that we only have one frostie left which means we lost three in the thaw. It happens...I just never stopped to consider that it could happen to us. We were overly confident, perhaps, having gotten lucky on our first try and counting on 5 more tries after that. A 50/50 chance of making it, some clinics say, though typically chromosomallly sound blasts have no trouble surviving the thaw so this is Darwinism at it again protecting from the inevitable loss. That's how I like to look at it and it's really just a small comfort when faced with the uncertain future. If this doesn't take...
For now, though, I am pregnant. I am convinced of this. I felt twinges within hours of transfer, through my nap and all last night. I woke up with more twinges and then full blown cramps. I went to acupuncture, drifted off a bit, then after I got home, I became nauseous and dizzy. I was terribly dizzy within days of Tempest implanting. I think this frostie, far more advanced in the uterine journey, wants to stick around and has already begun the process of homemaking for the next 9 months.
I took an HPT 6 days post transfer last time and it was a very clear positive. I'm going to try my luck and take one 4 dpt on Thursday morning to get it over with. I won't go into the big birthday weekend not knowing. If it's positive, great! I'll test again in a few days and find out my numbers on Tuesday. If it's negative, I'll have a moment to mourn that failure (I'll probably test again on Sunday just to make sure) and then I'll get over it and focus on my newly-minted toddler.
Toddler!
On Wednesday, we will officially have a toddler in the house. My goodness. Goodbye, babyhood. I can't wait for the birthday festivities to begin with our first trip to the zoo and then family and friends arriving to take part in the celebration. Here's to you, baby girl!
Monday, September 14, 2015
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Two weeks to go
Today is the first of September. In two weeks' time, you will turn the big ONE! You're chatting up a storm, babbling the day away and playing with your plastic fruit with the vigor of a professional baseball pitcher. I have never seen a child so young whip toys around in your style.
On Sunday, you took six steps in the kitchen without faltering, your arms held out demanding Pirate's Booty from me. I was amazed. Just today, you managed to walk across the room and I only realized it after turning back around to behold you making a beeline for the glider. Most of the time, though, you scoot around doing the "penitent shuffle" with one knee bent and the other extended parallel to the floor. It's odd and amusing and totally you. I suppose you can move faster that way in this half-walk, half-crawl as you gain confidence in taking steps.
Today we ordered your birthday cupcakes and yes, I will be the first to admit, I caved and got you your very own smash cake. I detest that tradition but it's crowd pleasing and, well, tradition. Your outfit(s) are chosen and so are ours. Now all we have to do is order the food, the keg, buy the wine, track down the final few RSVPs and then we're more or less ready for showtime.
In other news, now is as good a time as any to break it to you: mama is currently in cycle for an FET planned for September 13. That's right, kiddo: you could be a big sister come June. It's excited and nerve-wracking, even though we're graduates of the process. We're planning around your actual birthday and the party so hopefully my uterus cooperates and gets this show on the road. I have to go two full days without lifting you or doing anything strenuous at all and that's tough with one very active and demanding toddler. It's going to be so hard but if it works, I'd like to think it's worth the temporary inconvenience for both of us.
On Sunday, you took six steps in the kitchen without faltering, your arms held out demanding Pirate's Booty from me. I was amazed. Just today, you managed to walk across the room and I only realized it after turning back around to behold you making a beeline for the glider. Most of the time, though, you scoot around doing the "penitent shuffle" with one knee bent and the other extended parallel to the floor. It's odd and amusing and totally you. I suppose you can move faster that way in this half-walk, half-crawl as you gain confidence in taking steps.
Today we ordered your birthday cupcakes and yes, I will be the first to admit, I caved and got you your very own smash cake. I detest that tradition but it's crowd pleasing and, well, tradition. Your outfit(s) are chosen and so are ours. Now all we have to do is order the food, the keg, buy the wine, track down the final few RSVPs and then we're more or less ready for showtime.
In other news, now is as good a time as any to break it to you: mama is currently in cycle for an FET planned for September 13. That's right, kiddo: you could be a big sister come June. It's excited and nerve-wracking, even though we're graduates of the process. We're planning around your actual birthday and the party so hopefully my uterus cooperates and gets this show on the road. I have to go two full days without lifting you or doing anything strenuous at all and that's tough with one very active and demanding toddler. It's going to be so hard but if it works, I'd like to think it's worth the temporary inconvenience for both of us.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
11 Months
Happy 11 months, my sweet baby girl.
In just 4 weeks you will be a bonafide toddler. I have surrendered much of your babyhood with the big move, accepting that you no longer require nourishment from my breast and you no longer wish to be constrained by anything that keeps you from moving at your own free will, be it my arms, the straps of your high chair, or the crib. You want to go go go, see it all, feel your strength and stand up tall.
You did beautifully with the transition from Highland Park to New Providence. I think that slowly seeing your toys and your belongings beginning to fill the new house over the past month or so helped a lot by the time moving day arrived. You learned the layout of the new place, the smells and textures of each new room. You and Oscar are thriving here and I am so proud. You both have space to stretch and many nooks and crannies yet to explore. I love that you have a yard with a fence and that you're both adjusting well to spending 50% of your day outside. That's a big change!
I can honestly say that it's starting to feel like home as we unpack and hang artwork and curtains and see our history as a family unfurl out of brown boxes. It's tiring work but it's necessary and it won't magically happen on its own. You like to "help" with your fascination of taking out; putting in, putting in, taking out. You also like to climb every mountain of cardboard in sight. How thrilling to discover the cave of wonders in the basement as yet uncharted and uninventoried!
For all of the exciting beginnings -- you on the verge of speaking and walking -- I must pause to admit what a difficult time I've had ending the breastfeeding chapter of babyhood. I knew weaning would be harder for me than it would be for you and that has indeed been the case. It's not the temporary physical discomfort so much as its the ending of what only we have shared and will never partake in again. All mothers must feel this way, whether they've breastfed for two weeks or two years. It means, at least in that capacity, that you no longer need me for fuel. Our bodies are further physically separated. It started at birth with the severing of the umbilical cord and now the circle is complete.
Last night, I believe I fed you from my breast for the last time. I will cherish the memory always of your perfect baby head with your downy baby hair, eyes closed in peaceful dream feeding, nestled against my bosom. It was 1:15 in the morning on your 11 month birthday and you took a few sips and fell asleep. All done. You are growing every single day and becoming more independent and I couldn't be happier. Sure, I will cry a bit thanks to the hormone shift, but there's no sense dwelling on it. It's a milestone to be celebrated. My body nourished you for almost a full year. I am confident that you will continue to thrive on formula and milk and embrace a variety of big girl foods, my delicate grazer.
***
UPDATE
We have a walker! As of Sunday afternoon, you took two tottering steps in the grass with six witnesses there to cheer you on. You were holding out for a large audience, I guess, and you did beautifully. Mazel tov, kid!
In just 4 weeks you will be a bonafide toddler. I have surrendered much of your babyhood with the big move, accepting that you no longer require nourishment from my breast and you no longer wish to be constrained by anything that keeps you from moving at your own free will, be it my arms, the straps of your high chair, or the crib. You want to go go go, see it all, feel your strength and stand up tall.
You did beautifully with the transition from Highland Park to New Providence. I think that slowly seeing your toys and your belongings beginning to fill the new house over the past month or so helped a lot by the time moving day arrived. You learned the layout of the new place, the smells and textures of each new room. You and Oscar are thriving here and I am so proud. You both have space to stretch and many nooks and crannies yet to explore. I love that you have a yard with a fence and that you're both adjusting well to spending 50% of your day outside. That's a big change!
I can honestly say that it's starting to feel like home as we unpack and hang artwork and curtains and see our history as a family unfurl out of brown boxes. It's tiring work but it's necessary and it won't magically happen on its own. You like to "help" with your fascination of taking out; putting in, putting in, taking out. You also like to climb every mountain of cardboard in sight. How thrilling to discover the cave of wonders in the basement as yet uncharted and uninventoried!
For all of the exciting beginnings -- you on the verge of speaking and walking -- I must pause to admit what a difficult time I've had ending the breastfeeding chapter of babyhood. I knew weaning would be harder for me than it would be for you and that has indeed been the case. It's not the temporary physical discomfort so much as its the ending of what only we have shared and will never partake in again. All mothers must feel this way, whether they've breastfed for two weeks or two years. It means, at least in that capacity, that you no longer need me for fuel. Our bodies are further physically separated. It started at birth with the severing of the umbilical cord and now the circle is complete.
Last night, I believe I fed you from my breast for the last time. I will cherish the memory always of your perfect baby head with your downy baby hair, eyes closed in peaceful dream feeding, nestled against my bosom. It was 1:15 in the morning on your 11 month birthday and you took a few sips and fell asleep. All done. You are growing every single day and becoming more independent and I couldn't be happier. Sure, I will cry a bit thanks to the hormone shift, but there's no sense dwelling on it. It's a milestone to be celebrated. My body nourished you for almost a full year. I am confident that you will continue to thrive on formula and milk and embrace a variety of big girl foods, my delicate grazer.
***
UPDATE
We have a walker! As of Sunday afternoon, you took two tottering steps in the grass with six witnesses there to cheer you on. You were holding out for a large audience, I guess, and you did beautifully. Mazel tov, kid!
Sunday, July 26, 2015
Moving on
This is it: our last full week living on L'ambiance Court.
We have searched and worked for and dreamed of this moment for years and it's finally falling into place (with the help of some intense scheduling and forward planning.) We've lived in this town house for exactly 4.5 years today. During that time, we've gotten married, had many great adventures and our share of tense moments. I've changed careers and gotten my Masters Degree, Rhett has commuted an ungodly amount of hours to and from work each day and spent almost as much time trekking back and forth from Newark Airport, we've had many medical scares and surgeries from which I've recuperated in this house, the final one resulting in a beautiful baby girl. We brought our Oscar Wilde home to this place as well as our daughter.
When you live somewhere for almost five years, I think by default it becomes "home" even if it takes you a while to feel that way. I know my way around most of the surrounding towns now that I never would have gotten to know had I stayed at PUP. I met some incredible people student teaching in Metuchen and in classes at the gym but I never made friends. I think I can fairly speak for both of us - well, all four of us, really - when I say that we most look forward to meeting the people who will become our dear friends once we settle into life in New Providence.
Our spring was a constant parade of to-ing and fro-ing to some pretty incredible places, so much so that we blinked and here we are approaching my 29th birthday and the big move. We were so fortunate to share these adventures with Tempest from her first flight in April to Miami, to the long, long drive to Maine during which we both had raging colds, to Kiawah and Charleston in May, to Key West and Orlando in June. Travelin' Tess has earned her badge of honor, that's for sure.
I will also never forget what a trooper she was, beginning in March, when I'd load her up to spend at least half a day house hunting nearly an hour north of our current home. Our then 6.5 month old was so tolerant of the shuffling about but secretly, I think she enjoyed nebbing in other peoples' homes. We'd spend at least 2-3 days a week looking and hoping and losing faith and then cursing the absurdities of the NJ real estate market until one day while we were still in Miami, a potential home popped up on the GSMLS listings in my inbox. I nearly gasped aloud. It looked like a winner! It had to be a winner. I NEED TO SEE THIS HOUSE WHAT TIME IS OUR FLIGHT TOMORROW???
Naturally, we landed and I scheduled the showing for the very next morning so Rhett could see it with us. It was pretty darn close to perfect: it had the yard, the space, the hardwood throughout. Naturally, it lacked a decent 21st century kitchen but the bones were there. We found ourselves taking on the one project we said we absolutely did not want to take on: a kitchen renovation. But honestly, we're both pretty excited to see the finished project. (Currently knee-deep in the demo phase and waiting on the permit...)
By Cinco de Mayo, we had made an offer and by Mother's Day, we were under contract.
Speaking of Mother's Day, a little someone started saying "Mama" -- ok, more like MUUUUUMMUUUUUM -- the day after on May 11. It barely registered at first as just more babbling but when she consistently said it all day and then continued to use it almost entirely appropriately during play when she wanted my attention or when she was finished eating and wanted down, I realized that my child in fact was saying my name. We're still working on "Dada." She said it twice and both times, he missed it. Now we're onto the "ffffff" and "vvvvvv" sounds.
Since the verbal leaps, we've also gained a cruiser who can push a walker and even stand up on her own for a few seconds. Tempest is on the verge of independent steps. I can feel her straining every time she pulls herself up and turns around, one handed, to me as if to say, "Just you wait, muuuuum. You'll be chasing me in no time." She understands "no" and ignores it as she pleases, she can climb the stairs with ease, she can sort of spoon feed herself without gouging out her eye, and she can spit out food she finds distasteful or, alternatively, hand it to Oscar who is always lurking nearby. The dog is smart but the baby is smarter: she knows that if she hand feeds him her scraps, he'll be her best pal and in fact, he now allows her to climb on him with little more than a brief growl of annoyance.
We have no idea what we're in for once our belongings are actually packed up and professionally unloaded on the other end but we can safely guess that we'll have our hands full with a very curious and mobile 10 month old and an anxious pup who just wants to patrol his new fence line and make friends. Thankfully, we have almost-professional help from two people who have done this, oh, twenty-some times. I would lose my mind without them so thanks, Mom and Dad, for putting up with the circus mcgurkus. While we cannot repay the kindness, I am thankful that I have a small part in making memories for you, for me, and for Tempest when she's older. I look forward with joy to reminding her of all the Big Things she did before her first birthday.
We have searched and worked for and dreamed of this moment for years and it's finally falling into place (with the help of some intense scheduling and forward planning.) We've lived in this town house for exactly 4.5 years today. During that time, we've gotten married, had many great adventures and our share of tense moments. I've changed careers and gotten my Masters Degree, Rhett has commuted an ungodly amount of hours to and from work each day and spent almost as much time trekking back and forth from Newark Airport, we've had many medical scares and surgeries from which I've recuperated in this house, the final one resulting in a beautiful baby girl. We brought our Oscar Wilde home to this place as well as our daughter.
When you live somewhere for almost five years, I think by default it becomes "home" even if it takes you a while to feel that way. I know my way around most of the surrounding towns now that I never would have gotten to know had I stayed at PUP. I met some incredible people student teaching in Metuchen and in classes at the gym but I never made friends. I think I can fairly speak for both of us - well, all four of us, really - when I say that we most look forward to meeting the people who will become our dear friends once we settle into life in New Providence.
Our spring was a constant parade of to-ing and fro-ing to some pretty incredible places, so much so that we blinked and here we are approaching my 29th birthday and the big move. We were so fortunate to share these adventures with Tempest from her first flight in April to Miami, to the long, long drive to Maine during which we both had raging colds, to Kiawah and Charleston in May, to Key West and Orlando in June. Travelin' Tess has earned her badge of honor, that's for sure.
I will also never forget what a trooper she was, beginning in March, when I'd load her up to spend at least half a day house hunting nearly an hour north of our current home. Our then 6.5 month old was so tolerant of the shuffling about but secretly, I think she enjoyed nebbing in other peoples' homes. We'd spend at least 2-3 days a week looking and hoping and losing faith and then cursing the absurdities of the NJ real estate market until one day while we were still in Miami, a potential home popped up on the GSMLS listings in my inbox. I nearly gasped aloud. It looked like a winner! It had to be a winner. I NEED TO SEE THIS HOUSE WHAT TIME IS OUR FLIGHT TOMORROW???
Naturally, we landed and I scheduled the showing for the very next morning so Rhett could see it with us. It was pretty darn close to perfect: it had the yard, the space, the hardwood throughout. Naturally, it lacked a decent 21st century kitchen but the bones were there. We found ourselves taking on the one project we said we absolutely did not want to take on: a kitchen renovation. But honestly, we're both pretty excited to see the finished project. (Currently knee-deep in the demo phase and waiting on the permit...)
By Cinco de Mayo, we had made an offer and by Mother's Day, we were under contract.
Speaking of Mother's Day, a little someone started saying "Mama" -- ok, more like MUUUUUMMUUUUUM -- the day after on May 11. It barely registered at first as just more babbling but when she consistently said it all day and then continued to use it almost entirely appropriately during play when she wanted my attention or when she was finished eating and wanted down, I realized that my child in fact was saying my name. We're still working on "Dada." She said it twice and both times, he missed it. Now we're onto the "ffffff" and "vvvvvv" sounds.
Since the verbal leaps, we've also gained a cruiser who can push a walker and even stand up on her own for a few seconds. Tempest is on the verge of independent steps. I can feel her straining every time she pulls herself up and turns around, one handed, to me as if to say, "Just you wait, muuuuum. You'll be chasing me in no time." She understands "no" and ignores it as she pleases, she can climb the stairs with ease, she can sort of spoon feed herself without gouging out her eye, and she can spit out food she finds distasteful or, alternatively, hand it to Oscar who is always lurking nearby. The dog is smart but the baby is smarter: she knows that if she hand feeds him her scraps, he'll be her best pal and in fact, he now allows her to climb on him with little more than a brief growl of annoyance.
We have no idea what we're in for once our belongings are actually packed up and professionally unloaded on the other end but we can safely guess that we'll have our hands full with a very curious and mobile 10 month old and an anxious pup who just wants to patrol his new fence line and make friends. Thankfully, we have almost-professional help from two people who have done this, oh, twenty-some times. I would lose my mind without them so thanks, Mom and Dad, for putting up with the circus mcgurkus. While we cannot repay the kindness, I am thankful that I have a small part in making memories for you, for me, and for Tempest when she's older. I look forward with joy to reminding her of all the Big Things she did before her first birthday.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Back to Blogging
I'm finished! I'm finished! Finally, I'm finished!
With my Masters degree, that is. Tomorrow is "graduation day," even though I won't be attending Drexel's ceremony, and I will have my M.S. in Teaching, Learning and Curriculum.
That said, I can end this nearly two-month hiatus and catch up on chronicling on our exciting whirlwind spring of travel and house hunting and more!
But that will be tomorrow...tonight, I'm still solo parentis.
With my Masters degree, that is. Tomorrow is "graduation day," even though I won't be attending Drexel's ceremony, and I will have my M.S. in Teaching, Learning and Curriculum.
That said, I can end this nearly two-month hiatus and catch up on chronicling on our exciting whirlwind spring of travel and house hunting and more!
But that will be tomorrow...tonight, I'm still solo parentis.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
7 months!
Happy seven months, baby girl!
My, how you've grown. Your personality, evident from birth, is becoming even more pronounced and nuanced with each passing day. I have enjoyed getting to know your ins and outs and likes and dislikes and I am so proud to call you mine. I wouldn't trade this time together for anything in the whole wide world. You make me laugh and you challenge me in the best possible ways. I have never known love like this before.
What a ham. That's my funny hunny. She never ceases to be effortlessly, wildly entertaining. I think I took these shots at around 6:30 AM...when she'd been up for over 3 hours. Her belly was full of milk and she was ready to start her birthday by launching off the glider but mama was a killjoy and kept scooping her up and re-setting the shot.
The second half of this year is going by much too quickly. Everyone warned us this would happen but I didn't want to believe them. In the blink of an eye, a mewling, motionless infant starts crawling and walking and talking. Growing up takes a lot of work, though. I've seen these exertions first-hand and I can testify to the ebbs and flows of sleep and teething and everything else she has to explore in the space of a day. It's a lot of stimulation to process all at once without some bumps in the road.
We have two more swim classes left before we test our skills on the first of two aquatic vacations. We've started weekly Music Together classes on Monday mornings. Our group is large, about 14 children of various ages, and their (mostly) mothers. There's one nanny and one dad. There's a boy names Ares who lives up to his name in every way. He wages war on the giant drums hiding in the corner and lets loose his wrath when prevented from running amok. There's a Hannah, a Vivian, a Margot, an Isabelle, an Isabella, a Ryan, an Abigail, an Anders, and others I can't remember. It's a nice mix of toddlers and babies and a terrifying preview of what permissive parenting looks like. Ha! Not for our daughter...no way. (Example: Ryan broke free and tried to take down the fire extinguisher while Ares and Isabella, brother and sister, fought over who could climb the stacked mats in the corner before someone noticed what they were doing.) Tempest doesn't miss a beat. She's probably storing up ideas for when she can run around during future classes.
It's nice to be out and about in the warming spring weather with her. She's at such a wonderful age for absorbing new experiences and I don't worry so much about keeping to a strict schedule with her because, let's be honest, if she gets two naps a day of at least 30-45 min, I'm fine with that. These days, I don't even feel guilty about plopping down next to her and snoozing when I can. Is it when they're toddlers that they nap for hours at a time? Yes? Please? That would be SO NICE.
Seven months and she's working her way up to scooting. She likes to grab hold of furniture now and pull herself up. She can hold it for a few moments before her legs get tired but she knows how it works and that's scary. Any day now she's going to just start moving and then there's no going back!
She's been in bed for about 20 minutes now which means I have another 20 minutes before she wakes up and realizes I'm gone. I'll quit while I'm ahead and try to catch up on school work...or DVR. Who am I kidding? DVR always wins.
My, how you've grown. Your personality, evident from birth, is becoming even more pronounced and nuanced with each passing day. I have enjoyed getting to know your ins and outs and likes and dislikes and I am so proud to call you mine. I wouldn't trade this time together for anything in the whole wide world. You make me laugh and you challenge me in the best possible ways. I have never known love like this before.
The second half of this year is going by much too quickly. Everyone warned us this would happen but I didn't want to believe them. In the blink of an eye, a mewling, motionless infant starts crawling and walking and talking. Growing up takes a lot of work, though. I've seen these exertions first-hand and I can testify to the ebbs and flows of sleep and teething and everything else she has to explore in the space of a day. It's a lot of stimulation to process all at once without some bumps in the road.
We have two more swim classes left before we test our skills on the first of two aquatic vacations. We've started weekly Music Together classes on Monday mornings. Our group is large, about 14 children of various ages, and their (mostly) mothers. There's one nanny and one dad. There's a boy names Ares who lives up to his name in every way. He wages war on the giant drums hiding in the corner and lets loose his wrath when prevented from running amok. There's a Hannah, a Vivian, a Margot, an Isabelle, an Isabella, a Ryan, an Abigail, an Anders, and others I can't remember. It's a nice mix of toddlers and babies and a terrifying preview of what permissive parenting looks like. Ha! Not for our daughter...no way. (Example: Ryan broke free and tried to take down the fire extinguisher while Ares and Isabella, brother and sister, fought over who could climb the stacked mats in the corner before someone noticed what they were doing.) Tempest doesn't miss a beat. She's probably storing up ideas for when she can run around during future classes.
It's nice to be out and about in the warming spring weather with her. She's at such a wonderful age for absorbing new experiences and I don't worry so much about keeping to a strict schedule with her because, let's be honest, if she gets two naps a day of at least 30-45 min, I'm fine with that. These days, I don't even feel guilty about plopping down next to her and snoozing when I can. Is it when they're toddlers that they nap for hours at a time? Yes? Please? That would be SO NICE.
Seven months and she's working her way up to scooting. She likes to grab hold of furniture now and pull herself up. She can hold it for a few moments before her legs get tired but she knows how it works and that's scary. Any day now she's going to just start moving and then there's no going back!
She's been in bed for about 20 minutes now which means I have another 20 minutes before she wakes up and realizes I'm gone. I'll quit while I'm ahead and try to catch up on school work...or DVR. Who am I kidding? DVR always wins.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
An Unexpected Merger
So this is news: IVF NJ has merged with RMA NJ effective March 16. We received a single page typed letter in the mail announcing this news with very little fanfare.
My initial thoughts ranged from "huh?" to "wow, good for RMA" to "oh shit."
So maybe this explains the newly exploding marketing campaign as evidenced by the radio commercial I heard the other day or the two page spread in a glossy print magazine that I saw in the nail salon. They've made some mad bank off this merger. It's a little disconcerting to see something that once had word-of-mouth cache now fairly ubiquitous, especially when it is directly correlated to making money and has the potential to affect quality of medical care .
I know we're not in-cycle now, thank goodness, but this is a huge change and having just seen Anne and Dr. Hock, the fact that neither of them mentioned a word struck me as rather odd. I was there on February 5. They definitely knew this was happening. Perhaps they were legally bound by silence until it was official? But I do find it strange that the letter we received is nowhere to be found on the RMA patient portal. There is a press release that was posted on March 18 but that's not what we got in the mail. Something about the way this was announced to past/current patients rubs me the wrong way. Am I losing sleep over it? No, but the reality is, this will affect us, should we move forward with another FET in the future.
When I stop to think about logistics, it is perplexing as to how this is going to work. Supposedly, IVF NJ patients have been absorbed into the offices of RMA, thus potentialy increasing the volume and the wait time in each RMA clinic. If you read these FAQs from the website, you'll learn that while all doctors are remaining with their current patients, it's vague about the nurses. If I were an IVF NJ-er, I'd have so many questions right now. Heck, as an RMA alum, I have many questions. I don't envy those women mid-cycle who must feel completely blindsided by this announcement, on top of all the other stresses they are dealing with along their journeys. In fact, on my infertility support community, this is a very hot topic on the local boards. IVF NJ folks have been told they have to wait up to 60 days for insurance to cover their upcoming cycles with the new RMA branding. I'd be furious! Some of these women don't have two months to spend waiting around. Granted, there's not much you can do to battle arbitrary insurance policies if that's what they're telling the new Franken-clinic.
So where does this leave us? Future uncertain. Some visceral reaction is repelling me from accepting this merger. I don't know if it's irrational because I feel some weird possessiveness of the old RMA, or what. Perhaps I associate our success with pre-merger RMA and my brain can't compute that it no longer exists as we knew it. Then again, it's not like RMA was ever intimate. You already feel like cattle at Basking Ridge and now that's simply going to be exacerbated. Hard to tell what, exactly, I'm feeling. Maybe it's more to do with taking something that is already impersonal (you know, ART in general), as biologically exacting and individualized as the protocols are, and amplifying the sense of insignificance? That seems like over-analysis.
Whatever the real reasons for my hesitation are, I'll give myself some time to absorb and to mull but I won't ignore them if they're still around in September.
My initial thoughts ranged from "huh?" to "wow, good for RMA" to "oh shit."
So maybe this explains the newly exploding marketing campaign as evidenced by the radio commercial I heard the other day or the two page spread in a glossy print magazine that I saw in the nail salon. They've made some mad bank off this merger. It's a little disconcerting to see something that once had word-of-mouth cache now fairly ubiquitous, especially when it is directly correlated to making money and has the potential to affect quality of medical care .
I know we're not in-cycle now, thank goodness, but this is a huge change and having just seen Anne and Dr. Hock, the fact that neither of them mentioned a word struck me as rather odd. I was there on February 5. They definitely knew this was happening. Perhaps they were legally bound by silence until it was official? But I do find it strange that the letter we received is nowhere to be found on the RMA patient portal. There is a press release that was posted on March 18 but that's not what we got in the mail. Something about the way this was announced to past/current patients rubs me the wrong way. Am I losing sleep over it? No, but the reality is, this will affect us, should we move forward with another FET in the future.
When I stop to think about logistics, it is perplexing as to how this is going to work. Supposedly, IVF NJ patients have been absorbed into the offices of RMA, thus potentialy increasing the volume and the wait time in each RMA clinic. If you read these FAQs from the website, you'll learn that while all doctors are remaining with their current patients, it's vague about the nurses. If I were an IVF NJ-er, I'd have so many questions right now. Heck, as an RMA alum, I have many questions. I don't envy those women mid-cycle who must feel completely blindsided by this announcement, on top of all the other stresses they are dealing with along their journeys. In fact, on my infertility support community, this is a very hot topic on the local boards. IVF NJ folks have been told they have to wait up to 60 days for insurance to cover their upcoming cycles with the new RMA branding. I'd be furious! Some of these women don't have two months to spend waiting around. Granted, there's not much you can do to battle arbitrary insurance policies if that's what they're telling the new Franken-clinic.
So where does this leave us? Future uncertain. Some visceral reaction is repelling me from accepting this merger. I don't know if it's irrational because I feel some weird possessiveness of the old RMA, or what. Perhaps I associate our success with pre-merger RMA and my brain can't compute that it no longer exists as we knew it. Then again, it's not like RMA was ever intimate. You already feel like cattle at Basking Ridge and now that's simply going to be exacerbated. Hard to tell what, exactly, I'm feeling. Maybe it's more to do with taking something that is already impersonal (you know, ART in general), as biologically exacting and individualized as the protocols are, and amplifying the sense of insignificance? That seems like over-analysis.
Whatever the real reasons for my hesitation are, I'll give myself some time to absorb and to mull but I won't ignore them if they're still around in September.
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