Phlebotomy and the Afghanistan Baby
Dr. Reya insisted that I go see her favorite urologist, to wait until February 7th, because he is, in her esteem, “brilliant.” I told her I didn’t want to wait, but after Constance’s ultrasound it didn’t really matter because she has 3 cysts that are too large to enter our last Clomid cycle. So for this month we go at it the old-fashioned way. Well, not too old fashioned. We’ll at least have heat, running water, and a sturdy mattress at our disposal.
I did, however, get my blood taken yesterday to redo all of the hormone tests, and what should have been one needle and gone devolved into a totally bizarre moment of zen. The phlebotomist had trouble steadying my rolling veins and had to stick me three times to tap in. Before she stuck me she asked me which hand I used to write with so she could stick the opposite one, and I told her my right. I also thanked her, telling her that I’m a writer and that would make my day much easier.
Soon the hairy male phlebotomist came over and they both started grilling me about my job, my education, and what my “inevitable” novel would be about. Once he found out I went to the University of Iowa, hairy phlebotomist assumed I was working on a book, like every writer, but it was nice to have an actual release date for my book to prove my dedication.
Which of course led into a giant discourse about our infertility. Sometimes there’s no escaping your own story. And, even worse, the bizarre stories of others.
“So, are you guys going to do IVF,” the female phlebotomist asked, removing vial number two and hooking me up for a third go-round.
“I don’t know. Probably at some point now that our insurance pays for it,” I said.
“That’s a gift,” hairy plebotomist said. “People go broke over that stuff. Sometimes it costs more than a house. You’re a lucky kid. What are you, in congress or something?”
“No, my wife works for the Department of Health and Human Services,” I said. He gave me a thumbs up as the female phlebotomist removed the needle from my arm and replaced it with pressure and a cotton ball.
“My son and his wife – she just got over cancer and is infertile because of it – they’re thinking about going to go to Afghanistan to pay a woman $6,000 to carry their child. Apparently there’s a big market for that there.”
“Wow,” I said, trying not to laugh or give her that condescending look that often emerges when I’m confused.
“Yeah, it’s like $40,000 to have an American woman do it.”
“That’s crazy,” I said, speaking more to the idea of flying into Kabul multiple times than the exorbitant price of a surrogate. As she applied bandages to my wounds, hairy phlebotomist offered me his condolences and asked for a discount on my book when it came out. I wanted to tell the female phlebotomist that sometimes you get what you pay for, and perhaps her son should look at spending 15 grand in a safer country, but I bit my tongue and smiled.
I scuttled back into the waiting room like lightening to fetch my coat, grab Constance, and get the hell out of crazy laboratory land. It’s hard to know what to say when someone unexpectedly opens up to you, especially when you’re feeling delicate to begin with, but I felt for her. Clearly she was hurting and didn’t know what came next in her quest to be a grandmother.
And while I may not know what our next step will be, whether my sperm have rebounded so we can do injectibles or we go straight to IVF, at least I know I won’t be making repeated trips to Afghanistan. There are some things I’m just not willing to do.
Filed under: Doctor, Doctor, Husband & Wife
Yikes…I have reached the point of “desperation” before…but never did those plans include going to an Afghan Nation! Zoinks.
Sorry about the cysts…those are no fun! Good luck w/the blood work! Hopefully things have evened out there!
Never say never. If you had asked me 18 months ago if I would consider working with a surrogate, I would have just laughed at you.
I hate it when small talk leaves you feeling small. I’ve had this experience with one of the doctors at my obgyn’s office, talking about IVF and adoption.
It is weird the conversations you end up having once you let people in on a “secret”. I think people want to talk about it…hence all these blogs.
Hope the sperm count rebounds. No one really wants to do IVF, even with good insurance.
I saw a news program on this, but I think the one I saw was in India
OMG, I have a (way less surreal but still weird) phlebotomist story too. I got my day 3 FSH, LH, TSH test done. The same evening I see her and her son in my local Trader Joe’s. I’m dead sure she recognized me because her son smiled in a sweet sympathetic way.
Ouch about those cysts. Hope Constance isn’t hurting..
India does surrogacy, too, and it sounds a lot more safe to me!! (AND I thought in the US it could run upwards of $80,000 all said and done.)
I hope you never have to consider it. Chances are you won’t. Really. I’m hopeful for you guys yet…I mean, with the insurance and all, it’s such a blessing.
When it comes down to it, you can often do a lot more than you think money-wise, BUT….BUT it’s better by far if you don’t have to worry about paying it all out of pocket. I’m soooo happy for you and Constance on that one!
It’s interesting the take you have on international commercial surrogacy, considering how many people seem to think it’s about “the convenience” of not having to carry a pregnancy yourself. Still not sure how they figure that multiple trips halfway around the world to do IVF with a surrogate is less “disruptive to your career” than just shagging and getting pregnant, but that’s people for you.
Fingers crossed for the tests.
Bea
There is a doctor in Gujarat, India, who is apparently doing dozens of surrogacies. There’s a bunch of ethical issues but sometimes I think everybody comes out ahead. Better than Afghanistan at any rate.
Found your blog through Parents magazine. We had our baby after 3 IUIs and 2 IVFs. She’s 9 mos now. Worth every dollar, every minute, every blood test, every ultrasound, and all that (very literal) butt ache. Good luck to you both!
As a 3 times surrogate, going to india and those 3rd world country makes me uncomfortable. We are trying to prove that we are not exploited, that we are independent, intelligent women, that do not depend on the surrogacy money to survive….hard to make the same argument in those countries.
(sorry for the bad english, I am french LOL)
I am a development worker and I work on Pakistan and Afghanistan. There is no surragacy business in Afghanistan, I can assure you of that! Methinks this woman was NOT a student of geography, and one south asian country is as good as another. India has a burgeoning business in surragacy, mostly because of the duality of an excellent medical system for the wealthy juxtaposed along side cripling poverty. For ten times what they make in a year, a poor woman can carry a child for a client, and then feed her own kids and provide shelter. But the clinics that do this MUST be able to assure the customers of topnotch medical care. Afghanistan barely has hospitals in the capital city, much less the doctors to work in them (they have long since fled) and I am pretty sure the NGOs are not offering fertility services as part of their humanitarian assistance projects! Afghanistan also has one of the highest rates of maternal motality in the world and women are frequently not ALLOWED to see doctors because 1)it is not appropriate for women to leave their family compound and 2) they certainly cannot be treated or touched by or seen by men. Not exactly conditions to run a surrogacy business.
I totally agree it is always very weird when a small admission causes a stranger to start pouring out their story. And all this first thing in the morning no doubt!!!
Good luck with the test results
Good choice to keep baby “made in USA”. I can’t imagine having an Afghani woman carry my child- she would probably get flogged and stoned for being pregnant before the due date- those people are fierce!