My second miscarriage was a lot cheaper than my first. I'm guessing it's not because my insurance company offers "buy one get one free" coverage for D&Cs, though. Either they missed this last one, which is highly unlikely, or it's covered differently from the first because it was performed in an office and not a hospital setting. In any case, I only paid a $20 copay.
I felt like I was getting away with something for a while after the cheapie D&C, particularly since my first one set me back $1800. Mindful of not counting my chickens before they hatched (don't I know it), I kept an eye out for a bill in case it took a while to be processed. My heart would stop when I received mail from my insurance company, but all of the envelopes contained harmless letters and not bills.
Rather than opening the mailbox with dread every day, I could have called to inquire about coverage for the procedure. However, I knew there was really no need to waste 30 minutes getting a noncommittal answer from a representative. It was just a matter of time before some other medical test or procedure helped me reach my insurance deductible and coinsurance maximum.
My surgery last month ended up being the big ticket item for this insurance period. I've reached my deductible/coinsurance maximum each of the 3 insurance years we've tried, meaning that including copays, we've spent over $10,000 not getting pregnant. Or, technically speaking, occasionally getting pregnant but not making it very far.
Everyone knows IVF can be expensive. IUIs can certainly add up, too, making people wonder if they should have put the IUI money towards IVF. What's blindsided me, though, is how much money you can spend on things that aren't IUI or IVF. There's an array of fertility-related tests and procedures I hadn't considered before 2 years ago, from less invasive (but still expensive) uncovered lab tests to surgeries like laparoscopies.
As far as infertility treatments and expenses go, we're in the minor leagues. My heart goes out to women who have spent much, much more than we have and still do not have a baby in their arms. Or those who have a baby but have suffered financially after expensive treatments. Or who have gone through IVF at all, even if it was paid for. I know I'm far from alone in all this. My husband and I have been lucky so far to avoid IVF-scale interventions.
I have to wonder, though. How many more insurance years will I continue paying my maximum, not for prenatal testing, labor, and delivery but for infertility labwork and procedures?