"Just don't Octomom that shit. I can't uncle eight babies."

My brother in law has a way with words.

After two, maybe two and a half years of trying to procreate at varying levels of effort and involvement, we decided at the end of last year to start talking to doctors about our fertility. Jamie felt great about getting a pretty good result from his sperm analysis and after my consultation with Dr. Anderson at the fertility clinic, I was feeling good about hurrying to the next step. That is, until we got the bill. Ho-lee-cah-rap. We got some ice for our jaws (they fell pretty hard onto the floor) and succumbed to the sticker shock, causing us to speak in fragmented sentences like "Gah, so much!" and "What the- why can't- what- I, whoa."

Our new adventure just screeched to a halt. I was disappointed, but looking at it in a clear light. If the cost of this is overwhelming us, what will happen when the numbers roll in during and after having a baby? Are we ready for those costs? We knew we were ready to be parents, but we hadn't looked hard at the finances.

We sat on that thought for a while.

Then, we decided it would be worth it to at least move through the rest of the initial tests and procedures. If it can help us to know if we can have a baby ourselves or allow us to decide that adoption is a better choice, then it's worth it.

I have an appointment tomorrow morning at a new gynecologist. I wasn't stoked on the last lady I had seen the past few years. She was very knowledgeable, but a little robotic. I think I'm really needing someone with some connectivity. From what I've heard, the doctor I'm seeing tomorrow is personable, warm and one of the top doctors at the Women's Group.

So here's to the next step, which I'm sure will be the first of many more next steps.