Sunday is the big day.
The only problem with going through Planned Parenthood is that they’re on automatic with confirmed pregnancies. After the ultrasound, I was sent to an area to discuss scheduling. Except they launched into “You have three options: continue with the pregnancy, adop–” which is when I interrupted to remind them that my case was different. I think they just looked at the file for confirmation of pregnancy and failed to see the tech’s note about “fetal demise.”
A similar thing happened when I was ushered in to talk to a physician. I interrupted her pretty much immediately to explain the situation. She had been handed the file as I walked in the room, so there was less reason to be annoyed that she wasn’t up to date.
Apparently, my situation was new to her. Not surprising, I suppose. I can’t imagine a lot of women go from an OB to Planned Parenthood. But when I told her what we would have been charged she was shocked. As in shaking her head for a full minute or so.
Tim was irritated because they didn’t allow him back there. I assume the policy is to protect women who might be pressured into a decision by the father. Still, it meant he had to sit in a waiting room for over an hour watching the beginning of Titanic. Just me but maybe a love story isn’t the best fodder for a place like that. Just sayin’.
Anyway, we set up an appointment for the abortion pill. But while I was discussing things with the doctor, she said that the surgical procedure and the pill carried about the same risk of trauma to the body. She also said that there are rare circumstances of blood clots with the pill, and there’s also a small chance that not everything would be expelled. The surgery carried a slightly higher risk of infection. In the end, she said, the difference in risks between the two procedures was somewhere around a half to one percent. Pretty negligible.
I got home, read the pamphlet, and started getting freaked out about the medication. There’s no chance for blood clots with the surgical procedure. More importantly, there’s no chance with the surgery that the tissue is left behind. Given that my uterus has only had the strength to expel the tissue one out of four times, I was worried that the pill might not be enough. In which case, I’d have to get the surgery anyway, potentially at the hospital that wanted to charge us $978.
I’m sure all of my worry was unnecessary, but just the chance of it got me nervous. So I called and scheduled the surgical procedure instead.
The one major drawback of having the surgery: They don’t put you out all the way. You’re given a sedative. I really didn’t want to be awake for it at all. But I asked how long the procedure took. Five minutes. I’m just going to remind myself during that part that I’m essentially saving $100/minute by not being completely unconscious. Now that’s what I call frugality!