This is one of those moments that in the future, after I have conceived, carried, labored, and am finally holding our baby that I will not even remember. But right now, it has me so upset. A year ago, I had my first doctor’s appointment with a provider that was standing in while my actual provider was on maternity leave. I was (and still am) very new to military healthcare and how they operate. I came to my doctor with a short list of a few things I wanted him to address, but the biggest being a referral to the infertility clinic in the hospital. Since I went to my appointment alone it was difficult to explain why I needed a referral. I dropped the sentence “My WIFE and I want to have a baby” once or twice, but he just starred blankly. He replied with questions like, “Well, are you trying? Have you been pregnant before?” Short of spelling out: “I. Am. Gay. We are missing half of the ingredients in the baby recipe. Please make this less painful for you, the poor nurse, and myself and write me a referral.” He was not the brightest bulb in the tanning bed. After the nurse stepped in and helped explain, which was mortifying, he figures it out and sends me on my way.
Cue up the soundtrack to “Life Got Crazy” including songs: “Why does the military keep trying to move us”, “My wife is moving to Korea”, “Never mind, she can stay”, “Let’s sell and buy a house at the same time” and other big hits.
Now, all I want is the same referral a year later. The receptionist that just called me to explain that: since I have never met my assigned provider (the one that was on maternity leave) that in order for her to feel comfortable referring me she would like to meet me face to face. I could not be dreading this more. Do they not understand? I am not some hysterical woman who is diagnosing herself with some infertility issues. We are not having “issues conceiving.” We are two women. Maybe I need to begin every conversation with “Before we go on, you should know that I am married to a woman. I find that stating that clears up a lot of confusion, you know, in my experience.” And I’m sure that this provider is perfectly correct in asking to see me. This is just me, on my soap box, throwing an adult tantrum. Thanks for listening. End scene.