That's my Paris Hilton impression. What do you think? For the record, I typed that as I was clutching my pocket rat dressed in a pink Gucci top, seductively glancing at my monitor with a vacant look on my face, pouting.
It seems that lately I cannot visit news sites without being bombarded with issues related to fertility. It seems to be the issue du jour, which is both reassuring and annoying simultaneously. It's reassuring in the sense that recognition of the problems related to infertility increase awareness and abolish ignorance as well as the potential increase of government funding. It's annoying because with stories of infertility come stories of abundant fertility. Not the 35 year old suburban stay at home mom with three kids type, but rather the 15 year old with two kids living on a council estate type. I regularly experience such polarities as reading one article and thinking, "Yay, acknowledgement this is a problem more common than is realised!" to clicking the next link and wallowing in the inequity of life.
Yesterday this story was the headline on the BBC website. I awoke to IVF clinic ratings as the first story on the tv news, as well as on UK-based news websites. I wondered if I had suddenly stumbled into an infertile-friendly alternate universe where women were no longer viewed as freakish opponents of the natural order for daring to undertake ART. There is a nifty little chart in the article with the 6 clinics with the highest percentage of IVF cycles leading to live births, as well as the bottom 6. The clinic at the bottom of the table has a...10.3% success rate. 10.3%!!! The thought of people paying £3000-£4000 for a success rate like that is shocking. The clinic we are planning on going to is apparently not in the top 6, but based on the percentages indicated, cannot be much below that. I've just spent over an hour poring over statistics and my head just might explode. Live birth rate, age factors, infertility factors, ICSI vs IVF, Burger King versus McDonalds...I just don't know. What I do know is that everytime I see "Singleton live birth" I think I'm reading a Helen Fielding book.
Ladies, welcome to the flip side. Three teenage sisters under the age of 17 all have little joys of their own. Precious, isn't it? Aside from the abysmal names they have graced their children with, their mother has also blamed the lack of sex education in the schools for the three girls' ahem...indiscretions. Of course it is in no way a reflection of poor parenting on her part! Oh, and is it wrong that I looked at the photograph of the three of them, and when my eyes reached the third skank thought, "Ew. Someone had sex with that? She looks like a shrew." Yeah, I think it might be wrong, or at the very least not the way someone that is attempting to procreate should think. Oh well.
In the event that IVF is a failure, or I don't go back in time and get my 12 year old self knocked up (which, if I was like my real 12 year old self actually was, would be quite difficult since I don't *think* you can get pregnant from awkwardly kissing your middle school boyfriend in his rec room on a dare), we will look into adoption. This subject is also in the news, thanks to this study. Reassuring for my adoption-uneducated mind to read, since lack of adjustment is something that concerns me regarding adoptions.
I am trying to convince The Dude to adopt within the next few months actually. He teaches an absolutely charming 18 year old boy that shares our sense of humour. This child quotes Eddie Izzard and watches Scrubs. 'Nuff said. I'm thinking that there will be minimal paperwork involved, as well as no agency or travel fees! He's just about to head off to university, but I am willing to pay his tuition if it means he can be my new son. The hard work is already done for me, and I get to benefit from him being a perfect mix of mini Pru and mini The Dude! Bliss.