Results and such

Well, here they are:

SA: None. Again.

Blood work: AZFC chromosomal defect. Doesn't do much except effect fertility.

Final results: Crappy.

Dr. B. told us that, should we like to try, for us there's up to a 30% chance we might find some very fragile sperm with a biopsy, but if that sperm resulted in a male child, he would inherit the AZFC. We have decided not go to that route. It's way too much money for such a small chance of working.

I'm still grieving. I didn't just want a baby. I wanted my husband's baby. I wanted a baby with his blue eyes and curly hair and sense of humor. I wasn't ready to let that baby go. I admit, I'm a little bit jealous of the women who, despite all IF troubles, are still using their own eggs and their husband's sperm. But then, as far as we know, I can get pregnant without a problem.

So now, we're sitting here at a fork in the road that I never imagined. Adoption or IUI, using donor sperm. After the new year, we're going to start trying to find an RE, run some more tests on me, just to make sure everything really is working right before we start dropping thousands of dollars on procedures not covered by insurance. We're also going to talk to some adoption lawyers, agencies, and go to a CPS interest meeting for adopting out of foster care.

For now, we're just bracing ourselves to make it through Christmas. Outside of my parents and my little brother, my family has no idea, so we'll tell them while staring at my pregnant cousin. The we'll head to Kansas, where is family has been told, at least. But I swear, if anyone says anything besides "I'm sorry to hear that. I'll pray for you." I might slap them. I can't handle any "well, just adopt" or "relax, it'll happen" or anything along those lines. Right now, I can't handle any overly optimistic statements. I just want hugs.

bad...

We got preliminary test results today. It's not hormonal, it's genetic. We won't know more until we meed with Dr. B on Tuesday, but there's nothing he can tell us except that our dream of having our own children that look like both of us will never come true.

Fears, Doubts, and Nightmares

I had a nightmare. One of my worst.

I dreamed someone gave me a baby to take care of. A boy, named Michael.

And I forgot about him... Every once in a while, I would remember that there was a baby upstairs that I needed to take care of. So I would go hunt and find him under the crib or the couch. But I would put him down and go off and do something else.

Then, at some point, it dawned on me that THERE WAS A BABY in the house!

I ran upstairs, freaking out that this poor baby had been so neglected under my care. I found him, picked him up, and realized that there was nothing in the house for him to eat except 1 jar of baby food, which of course he couldn't eat as a newborn. So I made up my mind to take him to the nearest superstore for some food and another set of clothes, when I realized I didn't have a way to take him with me. No baby carrier. I sat and cried in my dream because I couldn't decide which was worse: to continue to let him starve, or put him in more danger by driving to the store with him laying in the passenger seat.

Thankfully, I woke up. But I've been plagued with "What-if's" ever since.

What if the dream was a message?
What if IF has happened because I would actually be a terrible mother?

What if IF has happened because, despite my desire to have kids, I've never looked forward to pregnancy?
What if IF has happened because I joked too many times about another man with straight hair fathering my children?
What if IF has happened because deep in the back of my mind, I hoped my babies wouldn't inherit my husband's dark eye circles?
What if I am too shallow to be a mother, because of these thoughts?

What if I just don't deserve children?
What if I never have children?
What if...
What if...
What if...

Well, you don't have kids....

DH and I just got back from my faculty Christmas party. I really love most of the fabulous people I work with, but tonight really stretched me to my limits.

It started with my comment about the bow on top of the Christmas tree, and how I'd tried to make one myself and it wound up taking me hours. That was returned by "well, when you have kids, decorating the tree will be a whole different experience."

NO! REALLY!?!?!?

Then, someone asked us how the new house was. We said we loved it and really enjoyed the extra space. She replied with "well, you don't have kids, so I guess you have extra space."

Yes, thank you for pointing out to us we don't have kids. We might not have known that on our own.

Finally, we were talking to a group around the margarita machine, and someone commented that (jokingly) that we must drink a lot not to notice how strong the margaritas were. Someone else piped up with "Well, you don't have kids, so you dont' know what it's like to not go out drinking."

OMG! WE DON'T HAVE KIDS!?!?! THEN WHY THE F*&% DID WE HIRE A BABYSITTER!?!?!?

I'm so grateful we only have one more party to go to, and it's with women who know what's going on.

Nerves

11 days until DH's appt. w/the male fertility specialist. 5 days until his appt. w/a urologist for a reason completely unrelated to infertility, but whom he will discuss it with anyway. I think I may be more nervous than he is!

I am pretty optimistic about the DR appt. Only because the odds of it being the XXY karyotype with no symptoms are sooo small. And because if the hormone pill affects (effects? can't ever remember) his sperm a fraction as much as it does his emotions, we'll be in the billions.

DH, on the other hand, doesn't think it's going to be either. He's convinced there's not going to be a reason for it. I'm probably overly-optimistic, but I think surely he's lacking in the optimism department.

I've started getting warnings at work on my computer that tell me my internet usage is being monitored. Great. Now the district nows I spend every spare second researching azoospermia, infertility treatments, adoption, and insanity (cause that's where I'm heading!) I guess if they've got a problem with it, they ought to offer IF treatments on their insurance. I might be a little less crazy if I knew how we were going to pay for all this.

On the bright side, there are only 6 days until Christmas break!

Bad idea

I did a dumb thing today, then magnified it by taking DH with me. I went shopping for kid's stuff.

Every year, my school has an angel tree for some of the lower income schools in the district. Parents and teachers are invited to take an angel and buy Christmas presents. I absolutely LOVE doing this. I think it's wonderful. I picked a boy and girl before thanksgiving, and decided to buy their presents while DH and I were out running errands.

We hit the kid's clothes section first. A couple shirts and some pants for the girl, then on to the boy's. DH had so much fun picking out the stuff for the boy. He kept coming up and asking "What about this one? Do you think he'd like this one?" He picked it all. We finished and headed to the toy section to find a soccer ball, and I realized that DH hadn't said a word since we left the clothes. And I know exactly what was bothering him.

We were both so sure that this year, we'd be buying Christmas presents for our own child, instead of someone else's.

15 days until the DR appt.

There it is again

That sense of dread is back. You know the one. That settles in the bottom of your stomach. The one that takes sudden control of your ability to smile, laugh, and even talk. It's back. With a vengance.

I was doing ok. (Won't say great, or even good. Wasn't doing that well.) But I was ok. Then, last night, it hit me again. DH and I were laying in bed, talking about stupid stuff, and then all of a sudden, we weren't. We were talking about the Doc. appt. It's in 19 days. 19! That is going to fly by, and I am soooo scared. Thankfully, my DH is a wonderful man, who knows I really, really suck at finding things. So he's taken on the brunt of the research about low hormone levels and XXY karyotype. Bless him.

He told me that the genetic one is very unlikely, since he shows NONE of the symptoms. Great news, hopefully he's right. (He does like to do things the hard way...) He said the hormone pills take a few months, but he said if there's even a couple little spermies in his next SA, it's a good sign.

But what if it's neither? What if we go in, and Dr. B has no clue? What if he tells us it's just "one of those things"? Or what if it's something worse we've never even considered?

And then, of course, as bad as not knowing is, I'm afraid knowing will be worse. If it's bad news, knowing will be worse. The dread will eat me alive.

just a little rant

I am being a terrible teacher this morning. My students are making Christmas paper chains with spelling words instead of actual work. That's so I can vent a bit about two things that are bothering me.

#1: I was reading the school newspaper published at my husband's school. The cover had a blown-up picture of a sonogram. The headline article was an interview with a 15 year old pregnant with twins. (No surprise there, it's Texas.) But in the interview, the girl said "It only takes one time." Does it? Does it really? Well, thanks for clearing that up! I'll go and just do it once!

#2: I work with a woman who has been trying to get pregnant since this summer. (5 months) She is very upset that she's not pregnant yet, and thinks she fully understands what I'm going through. This really bothers me. I feel selfish thinking I'm going through hell after 15 months when some couples have been struggling for years. In all likelyhood, she'll be pregnant by summer vacation and forget she ever worried.

In completely unrelated news, the author of one of the blogs I follow has had something go wrong with her adoption. Please pray for her.

Top 5 things to do with the empty room/ would-be-nursery

I've been thinking a lot about that dark empty bedroom I haven't entered since we moved in. So here are my ideas for it. Maybe some of them will work for you too.

Top 5 things to do with the empty room/ would-be-nursery.

5. Cut a hole in the floor. Install a fireman's pole as an alternate way to get downstairs.

4. Use the room to proudly display the collection of ____________ you've been so embarassed about. (Fill in the blank with collection of your choice: salt and pepper shakers, keychains witha message, flashlights...you get the idea.) Be proud!

3. Hang a sex swing from the ceiling. Hey, having sex on a schedule gets boring. Spice it up!

2. Turn the room into stalker headquarters. Pick a famous celebrity. Plaster the walls with pictures and articles and handwritten notes. Then buy a giant map and hang it over the window. Now, plot your route for surprising, meeting, and initiating life-long friendship with said celebrity. Fun, right?

1. Start your own Public Service Announcement business. Come up with catchy slogans like "Big hair won't get you there" or "A baby picture a day makes your neighbors sick". Print them on bumper stickers, keychains, salt and pepper shakers, and full-sized posters. Be sure to add eye-catching pictures. Sell them online, and use the profits to send free ones to those who really need them. Time's Person-of-the-Year, here you come!

getting there...

We have 24 days until our next doctor appointment. This appointment will either:

A: (this would be the good one) Tell us that, miraculously, it was a hormone problem, and all the suffering DH has gone through with the crazy hormone pills was worth it, and he now has millions of sperm!

or

B: That it was not a hormone problem. It is a genetic problem, and there's nothing we can do.

Bet you can guess which option I'm praying for.

DH is not liking the hormone pills. It's an estrogen supressor, so it causes hot flashes, mood swings, and stomach problems. Poor guy. Maybe it will be worth it though.

DH finally worked up the guts to look at the sperm donation website the doctor ordered. The donor site is a little surreal. It felt a little strange to sit and pick qualities of a potential father and then add sperm to cart. (Not that I actually did, but I did spend quite a while on the site.) DH does not seem comfortable with this, to say the least. He is trying to consider it, but he's really struggling. I told him if he doesn't want to go this route, it's fine. We can always adopt. I guess I'll keep praying and try not to stress. Nothing we can do for 24 days but wait and see.

Optimism...

is for those with easy lives.

When DH and I started TTC 15 months ago, I was sure that by this time this year, we would be showing off an adorable baby to family and friends. I would be spending Thanksgiving with our angel, skipping Black Friday in favor of hanging out my baby.

When summer rolled around and I still wasn't pregnant, I wasn't worried. We're both teachers, and I figured we had the whole summer to do nothing but, well, you know. I was sure that by the time the holidays rolled around, we'd be decorating a nursery in the new house, and I would be one of those adorable pregnant women walking around the grocery store doing last minute shopping. I was sure I would be poring over the Black Friday sales papers, looking for goodies for my baby.

Now?

I'm not sure I'll ever be pregnant. I'm not sure we'll ever have a baby. The road before us looks terrifying. It's full of potholes, boulders, and sheer drop-offs. And I have no idea how to navigate it. I have no idea if what's supposed to carry us through together will make it. And I'm so scared.

Infertility

Infertile: a couple who has had unprotected intercourse for at least one year without conceiving.

This is the definition, as stated in the handout we received at DH's doctor appt. this morning. Official results?

Varicoceles, a cyst, and probably NOA. In layman's terms, despite the varicoceles, Dr. B. says he thinks it is not a blockage problem, but hormonal or genetic. He put DH on some hormone pills, sent him off to do bloodwork for both hormones and genetics, and told us to come back in a month, with a sperm-in-a-cup for testing. Thanks doc. That's JUST what I wanted to do right before Christmas. Everyone loves bad news for the holidays.

Please excuse my sarcasm and my lack of optimism. But it's hard to be optimistic when even the doctor thinks it's grim.

Dr. B. also talked to us about AI with donor sperm and adoption. He very bluntly (and harshly, I think) told us that since DH is over 40, we will be at the back of the domestic adoption line. I don't want to believe this and need to do more research, but I really stink at finding things. If anyone has suggestions of where to look for useful adoption information, I would appreciate it.

Again, I think it will take a while before the seriousness of this begins to sink in. Right now, my concern is all for DH, who is not taking it well. He keeps apologizing. He believes that somehow it's his fault. It's not. I know it isn't. I guess right now, the problem is convincing him.

What a day.

DH and I had a long talk last night about our doc appointment tomorrow. We're both extremely nervous, but I found out neither of us really expect good news. It really seems like we're going instead to have a doctor confirm our worst fears face to face. Lovely.

We talked about what we think our next step will be. Since neither of us really think that "fixing" whatever the problem ultimately turns out to be is feasible or even possible, we talked about donor sperm and adoption.

DH is leaning toward adoption. He didn't say it, but I think (and please excuse my terminology on this) he feels uncomfortable with the idea of a child that is genetically mine and another man's. I think he is more comfortable with a child that, genetically, belongs to neither of us. I'm OK with this, I guess, but it hurts to think I might never be pregnant.

On the bright side, my boobs may never sag! :)

I cried this morning reading adoption blogs on The Stirrup Queen's blogroll. I mean, really really cried. Sobbed. Had to go downstairs and find my teddy bear kind of crying. I haven't really lost it since we found out. Don't get me wrong. I have cried every single day for a week and a half, but not like that. After finally stopping, I called my mom to see what she was up to today. Two seconds of talking to her and I was sobbing again.

I thank God for my mom. She had her own fertility issues when trying to get pregnant with me, so understood and just let me cry. Then she took me shopping for Christmas stuff. I talked with her a while about adoption/sperm donations, DH's feelings, and mine. She told me that somewhere, there was a baby that was meant to be mine. She didn't care how it got to me.

I sure hope she's right.

Where'd it go?

I was having a great day. I don't know if it was the sunny day, having DH home from his trip, my little rant last night, or all three; but I was having a great day. I woke up in a good mood, got some much-needed shopping accomplished, had lunch with DH. And then, just like that, I could feel that little hole in my chest start growing. You know the one. The one that suddenly, painfully appeared when you found out there was a good chance you weren't having kids. Certainly not anytime soon.

And now it's back, and I have spent the afternoon reading blogs and crying in front of the computer.

Surely there's a better way.

My MIL called me this afternoon, to "talk about babies." She wanted to let me know that it's not the end of the road, and that I have no idea what God has in store for me. I have to admit, it's kind of nice having a MIL who went through MFI herself, back in the 60's. I certainly have more options than she did, which she reminded me. She wound up adopting my wonderful husband and my great SIL, which just goes to show, I guess.

Selfishly, it's not the thought of adopting or sperm donations or anything that is bothering me. It's the length of time it all takes. I have no patience, I guess.

Tell me it gets easier.

Today has been rough. It started this morning with an old friend I haven't seen in a couple years. He asked how the new house was, and I told him that we love it, but that it's much bigger than the old one, and we're still adjusting to all the space. He said,"Well, it's room to grow."

.....................

Yes, friend. I realize it's room to grow. That's why be bought the house. Because it has plenty of room for kids, a nice yard, and a good neighborhood. That's why we bought a 4-door sedan. Because we can fit a carseat in the backseat. And now?

I have this urge to buy a zippy little sportscar with no backseat, and to sell the house and by a condo downtown in a building that has no kids.

Fuck.

I went to a wedding this evening. Thought I'd be fine. It's a wedding, right? I can do weddings. I sat with my co-workers, all of whom left their kids at home. But it seemed like no matter what the conversation, it turned back to their kids, and how wonderful they are, despite the shananegians they pull. I left before the wedding cake was cut.

I realize your children are wonderful. I'm sure I would be the same way. But is that really the only thing we can talk about? What about the weather? Texas Tech? New Moon? ANYTHING.

Thanks, I think

I have spent the day reading blogs written by women who either are infertile themselves, or who are dealing with their husbands' infertility. On the one hand, it has been SO comforting to hear that other people are going through it too. It's good to know we're not alone.

On the other hand, the more reading I do, the closer that dark cloud gets to me. It takes so long for this crap. Any of it. Let me explain, since that's not exactly coherent. All of these women have been trying to get pregnant for years. They've had tests, their husbands have had tests, they've had IUI'S and IVF's, adoptions fall through, and countless other very time consuming process. And I can see time stretching out in front of me, endless and dark. I'm 25. I have all the time in the world to have a child. It's not me. But the DH is 42. He doesn't have time to wait. At this point, if we have a child in the next three years, he'll be in his sixties when the kid graduates high school.

Never has the age difference between my DH and myself bothered me. It's usually nothing. We suit each other like macaroni and cheese. Now, for the first time, it's an issue. I read these other blogs, and I see women my age going through the same thing, but their husbands are my age too. And I know my DH. He will hit a point where he thinks his time has passed, and give up.

Then what? Do I face a childless future? I have always wanted children. Lots of them. Now, I feel like I'll be lucky if I have one.

In other news, I am getting more and more nervous as DH's doctor's appointment approaches next week. It's four days away. Part of me is hoping the doctor will just tell us that there's nothing to do except find a sperm donor or adopt. I am so terrified that we will start spending all this money on procedures that have less than a 20% chance of working. And even if they do work, what if it turns out there's something wrong with me too?

I'm not sure I can handle this.

Ouch, kid

I had to apologize to my least favorite student today.

Yes, contrary to popular belief, teachers have favorites, least favorites, and twitchies. (Those are the ones that make us twitch just to think about.) "Fred" is really a twitchy, but I'm trying to be nicer.

Fred, bless his heart, was actually trying very hard to have a nice conversation with me, which would have been a first for him this year. But he turned around and asked me "miss, don't you want a baby?"

?????????????

How is it that exactly a week after I broke down in tears and had to have another teacher watch my class for a full 30 minutes while I tried to get it together, this butthead asks that question??

Poor kid. I looked at him and thundered "THAT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS."

He gave me this look, like I just proved to him that I won't like him no matter what he does. Of course, as soon as I said it, I felt terrible. How could he have known? I know that. But it didn't make his question hurt any less.

I wound up apologizing to him after recess. I told him I was sorry I snapped at him, but that question was a very personal question, and maybe not so appropriate. Didn't really make me feel any better though.

In other news, my husband had a rough time of it today too. He's out of town, and one of his co-workers told him three times today "well, when you have kids...." Shoot us both, please.

First time for everything.

My natural inclination when faced with a problem is to talk it out with everyone I trust. Unfortunately, this problem is one I have no desire to discuss with the ones I love. I guess maybe because I'm still not sure how I'm feeling.

At the age of 25, I have found out I may never give birth to a baby, at least not my husband's. We've been trying for over a year to get pregnant. Finally, I took myself to the doctor. The doc reccomended we go ahead and test my husband's sperm, just in case. We did, but we both thought the problem lay with me. My mom had lots of troubles getting pregnant, so it wouldn't have been a surprise. What was a surprise was the doctor calling at 6 at night to tell us that my husband had no sperm. Not a low sperm count. NONE. No sperm. At all.

We have a second doctor's appointment next week, so I fully realize that it's probably to damn early to be freaking out, but all the research we've done makes the outlook grim. And, while I realize that this isn't the end of the road, even if there's nothing the doctor can do, it's really really difficult to accept that the little dream babies I've been having, with chubby legs, blue eyes, and ringlets inherited from 2 sets of curly haired DNA aren't ever going to exist. And that hurts.

I think the real reason I don't want to talk to anyone I know about this is because it might get back to my husband. I am trying to be strong in front of him. I know he feels terrible about this. The night we found out, he apologized. Said I didn't sign up for this when I married him. That I would be better off without him. This is, of course, completely ridiculous. I'd rather have him than a dozen children. Still, I don't want to give him any more reasons to go thinking stupid things like that. So I'm telling nameless readers (or maybe no one, I guess) instead of him.

Thanks.