As MK has stated previously, we had a plan. Well, she had "the Plan"; I just chimed in with a "Yes, dear." It was a good plan: We'd be married for two years before we started our family. Though when we got to the point of starting to try, I was hesitant. I was ready to be a father, but I wasn't ready to be a father. I'm not sure why I was uncertain about it all, but I did get over it by talking to MK.
That's key: communication. Open communication.
We tried and tried, and month after month - nothing. It was frustrating for MK who was focused on "The Plan." Me? It didn't bother me that much, if at all. I knew for some people, they got pregnant happened immediately. For others it took time. Time and Patience.
That's key: patience.
I was focused more on my career and where I wanted to raise my family. These distractions kept me from focusing on the frustrations of how things were not happening according to "The Plan." I knew MK was frustrated. I tried to be as understanding as I could be. But it was rough seeing her so frustrated month after month. There's nothing you can say or do to make things better. This fact became more painfully apparent as things progressed.
After MK's surgery, things got more frustrating for her. After the first month - nothing. The second - nothing. We were told that the surgery could increase our chances of concieving. No such luck. I figured that the problem might be with me.
Dear readers: You may think that this is hard to admit for a man. Admitting that there is an issue with my...stuff would be difficult to some, I imagine. For me, it was just the next step in finding a solution. It takes two to tango, no?
We found a fertility clinic and an appointment was made.
Now going in, I did have some preconceived notions of what I would do. I would sign-in. Whisper why I was there to the nurse. Get my "collection cup" and go into a posh room full of visual aides and collect a sample.
I. Was. Wrong.
I was ushered into an exam room with a closed door in the corner. The nurse told me I could go behind the door and collect a specimen. The door to the exam room closed, and with cup in hand, I opened the door to what I imagined would be the clinical equivalent to the "Grotto" at the Playboy mansion.
What I found was a small bathroom. It was white and small. There was a radio in there playing some Elton John or some easy listening music. I thought that was appropriate. I noticed another door. I approached it hoping to find this fabled lounge that the media had taught me was in every fertility clinic. I opened it finding the hallway outside the fertility clinic.
Fast forward a week to MK and I going to the clinic to get our results. We met Dr. D and he explained the situation. I won't go into details of his analysis since MK has done so else where on the blog. I will say that Dr. D is fond of drawing graphs and diagrams as he is explaining things. This is helpful, and, to me, a bit amusing. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because his sperm diagrams remind me of the Gary Larson Far Side cartoons.
As mentioned, MK has described that initial meeting with Dr. D, but I would like to talk about my experience. As Dr. D described my sample, MK automatically teared up. I, on the other hand, took the news that my boys were shaped like Stewie rather well. I wasn't upset. I suppose I took the news with a "How do we fix it?" attitude.
I'm sure I'll blog more. I think the most important thing I could share with husbands, boyfriends and significant others that are dealing with fertility issues is to be patient with your female partners. They will be sad, angry, and feel worthless. You must support them! Keep them as optimistic as possible. Try to remember that there is a light at the end of this dark tunnel. Just be strong.
Until next time...