But I’m Not The Only One

Insem #1 of the month done this morning. Had to battle a late March snowstorm to get to the clinic, but all ends well.

What do others do following insems? That 10 minutes your wife is supposed to lie flat? It used to be sacred time, a bit emotional but hopeful for us. Now? We want to laugh and relax. We bring the iPad in with us and watch something funny. Who knows what’s “right”, but after you’ve been through it enough, you’re thankful for the distraction.

So that moment I heard my sperm wasn’t good enough….that was hard. But then you start getting optimistic really quickly…the fool I was! “You’re a very good candidate for IUI,” they said. “Chances are quite high given your situation that a pregnancy will happen within six cycles.”

So you start feeling good! So what if it took a “little” extra work? A baby would still be here before long! (ha)

They didn’t know everything. Why say something like that if you don’t know for sure? When the wife did her HSG (which was hell to watch from my perspective by the way – never seen in her in so much pain), they gave her the all-clear. It was my problem, and mine alone. Which sucked when I was alone with my thoughts…but it at least gave us better odds.

So we do the old standbys – Clomid, IUI, Progesterone…you know what really sucks about being a guy through all of this? Especially when you’re the one with a problem? All the shit they do, they do to her. Basically compensate for my shortcomings by pumping her full of hormones. How is that fair? How am I supposed to feel okay about this?

Six months…nothing. We re-meet with the doctor, and we hear a word we’ve never heard before: endometriosis. Essentially, scar tissue on the ovaries. He wants to cut my wife open and check her ovaries to see if he can see any scar tissue. Okay, I’m being dramatic, it’s a small incision. But it’s surgery.

When I saw the x-ray, she was still out. I had to take that in alone, which was the hardest part. I never felt more alone than when I heard I had a partner in fertility issues. The scarring was possibly making it difficult for follicles/eggs to make their way down the fallopian tubes, which would make it damn near impossible for my mentally challenged and outnumbered sperm to reach them.

It was probably the hardest moment throughout all of this. I cried by myself and watched terrible TV in the waiting room.

It melted away in an instant, at least temporarily, when she opened her eyes and smiled at me….and even still when she threw up.


6 responses to “But I’m Not The Only One

  1. I just want to say that you are awesome! You sound like a very supportive husband. It’s great to hear a man’s perspective on infertility. I look forward to following your blog.

  2. It is difficult when there are two of you with infertility problems. But it happens more often than one would think.

    I have also wondered how my husband dealt with it all. Most of what he could do was watch and hold hands. Sounds just like what you are doing.

  3. I have no answers. Non true words of comfort, and I swear to you I have damn crystal ball. I long ago shoved it somebody’s arse who claimed they knew what was to be in my little corner of the world. Bummer, eh?

    I can say this. I have the following diagnosis: PCOS, endometriosis, had a uterine septum (a birth defect that created a natural IUD in my uterus and required surgical removal,) and the ever so lovely premature ovarian failure. Talk about some hurdles! As far as the endo surgery, the upside is my periods hurt A TON less afterwards. The recovery was quick, and while I was a bit pissy about having to go through it. I did so with hope. We went through several IUIs, and it wasn’t until our first IVF that I knew about my “old lady eggs.” Damn. That was a blow to the ego. What you are feeling was what I felt. I *get that*. At no point did it ever feel certain we would succeed.

    We did the adoption route and infertility route at the same time. We just wanted to be parents, and didn’t really care how it happened. We did end up using donor eggs to conceive our daughter. I don’t regret that for a single second. When I look at her, I see her. I don’t see another woman. Although, every family makes the decisions that work for them.

    What I guess I’m longwindedly trying to say, the journey is full of twists and turns. You never know what will come your way next. Just remember that the infertility isn’t you or anybody’s fault. It’s just a mountain you are climbing together, and neither of you knows what’s on the other side. Hence, you do have equal footing. Here if you need anything, and I will be reading.


  4. Thank you commenters. I’m blown away by the support already. My wife has read every comment as well, and we are so thankful. I have begun reading many of your blogs as well, and it is very cool to see the community in this issue. I hope you continue to read and offer your comments.

  5. I just stumbled upon your site today and I have to say you sound like an incredibly supportive and loving husband. I was just diagnosed with endometriosis 2 weeks ago. My Lupron treatment starts tomorrow and we already know that Clomid at the very least is in our future. It’s a maddening process for both partners and I’m so glad that you’ve decided to share your perspective. It puts words to what my husband must be going through but won’t tell me because he’s trying to be strong, supportive and optimistic. Wishing you and your wife everything you want! I look forward to reading more on your blog!

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