There are some things, we just cannot do here.

When I pulled up the driveway to the parking lot, I knew I was in trouble. When I had looked up the doctor online, I did not realize that her practice was in a hospital and that the hospital was a Catholic hospital. My heart sank when I read the name of the hospital - a catholic saint. After years of catholic education, I knew all too well what that meant. Darn.

I parked my car, took a deep breath and went in anyway.

The doctor was nice. She asked a lot of questions and barely listened out my entire answer before she asked the next question. She could not hide her excitement for my plans to become a single mother. There was admiration and respect in her voice. There are not many moments in my life when I got admired or experienced a deep form of respect from other women. As the one without husband or child to show for, I rather get looked down upon. But I had heard that same kind admiration before in the voice of friends who I had told my plans and in the voice of my European doctor, when I saw her last Christmas.

But admiration and respect alone will not get me pregnant nor help me become the mother of a healthy child.

So, I told doctor about my plans to move on to IVF and she said that I should not have to do that. I should try it naturally a little longer. She explains in detail what she would try before moving on to IVF. She would do ICIs or IUIs with me, but...

and I knew what was coming even before she said it: "We are a Catholic hospital."

The words echoed in the room. I nodded and softly said: "I know."

"There are some things, we just cannot do at this hospital. They would not let me do them here. I would have to ask for permission and they would not give it to me. You are the first one who came here with this in the 5 years that I have worked here."

I still nodded: "I actually just came here for my cancer screening and because my period was late."

She looked more disappointed than I was. She did the pap smear and repeated a few more times "There are some things, we just cannot do at this hospital."

Finally, she laid a small plastic bag with two needle-less syringes on my tummy: "Here. Try it at home!"

I looked at the syringes and before I could get any words out, a nurse came into the room and called the doctor to delivery. I took the syringes and left silently. There really wasn`t any chance for me to thank anybody for anything.

There are some things, one just cannot do at this hospital.