Ay and I are very different. I'm the shy, neurotic overachiever and he's the outgoing, happy-go-lucky teddy bear. We are two sides of the same coin- I pessimism, he optimism. So it feels odd to have switched places in the last week.
For me, the SA result brought relief. We may have known that there was a vanishingly small chance we could get pregnant naturally, but a hazy percentage point seems much larger when you're a week past period time with nary a twinge to show for it. The glimmering spark of "Could I be...?" followed by the relentless crushing tide of negative tests. Regaining my resolve and then losing it again with a random, off-handed comment of "Oh, I know a girl who NEVER tested positive on a urine test! For all 5 kids!"
It brought self-assurance. I've diffidently charted on and off, bought prenatal vitamins and gone weeks dry. "Just in case." And when I had nothing more to show for it, I felt stupid. I felt deluded. But I couldn't stop, until now.
It brought hope. I feel like I've been floundering in the dark, fighting some monster I couldn't even prove was there. Now, even if for a brief time, everything is illuminated. My overplanner swings into action. OK, we're looking at IVF/ICSI/possible PGD, what will we have to pay? How will we get the money? How long will it take? What will we do in the meantime to be the best two sets of reproductive organs that fertility clinic ever did see? I can deal with this!
I hadn't realized before this week, not truly, that Ay believed he was part of that small percentage who could naturally conceive.
For him, the result was shattering. I'm not sure that he had, despite our discussions about it over the course of our relationship, ever thought about the specifics of how we would form babby if he didn't have magical sperm. And while I've prepared, read books, researched IVF, read blogs and tried to smother myself in pure information, he's talking to the genetic counselor and the urologist, mystified by new terminology and drowning in a sea of new knowledge. He was certain and now he is uncertain.
It was shaming for him. I can't even imagine. Over the past five years I have brought myself to a slow realization that even if we need ART, there is nothing wrong with us as people. He's had a week.
It destroyed his last bastions of denial. It destroyed his hope. I've processed this over the course of years and he's found himself suddenly naked, stripped of all his defenses and facing the hard truth - that he's not the exception, that it won't "just happen" if he hums through the statistics.
It sucks, and it is awesome.
It sucks, because the guy I love is in pain, and it's hard to tease out. Compared to mine, which slides on the surface like an oil slick, ever ready to burst into flame.
It's awesome, because suddenly everything makes sense. When I was at my lowest, the support I hoped for wasn't there. I questioned it, even questioned if I had made the right decision in marriage. Now I understand - before this week, he honestly didn't believe that we were infertile. He couldn't come close to understanding why I was in pain.
This week, we gave and received pain, rocking back and forth as our emotions allowed.
Two sides of the same coin.
This is a beautiful post. My husband and I knew from very early on it was his sperm that was the problem, and he always seems so casual about the fact. He was in denial for two years about us being able to get pregnant naturally, and it was the hugest relief being able to let it go. He never seemed hurt when the truth hit him in the head, but that doesn't mean he didn't feel it. I feel terrible thinking that all these things were going around in his head and he just shrugged them off and put on a brave face.
ReplyDeleteHere from stirrupqueens - and wishing you all the best in your journey through the murky world of IF. stay strong and keep ice cream on hand for all occasions ...
ReplyDeleteAndie
Thank you both!
ReplyDeleteI do worry about him, even now... I won't say it's necessarily a male thing, but he does play it pretty close to the chest emotionally and I don't want him to feel alone and unsupported.
There is nothing easy about this for our guys. As strong as they can appear, this is not easy for them. My love and I started going to a counselor every week soon after our initial SA, mostly because I was a basket case, but also because i was so worried about him being able to deal with such devastating news. He opened up more in those sessions than he ever did at home, and it was so powerful for me to be able to know what he was thinking and feeling.
ReplyDeleteoh and yes, after the initial shock of the azoos diagnosis wore off, it was a strange relief to know that there would be no "surprise" conceptions in our house.
@foxy The relief is the weirdest part, I expected to be more sad but I find I had a lot more trouble dealing with thinking I was pregnant than knowing I couldn't be.
ReplyDeleteAhhh thankyou!
ReplyDeleteThis describes me and the hubby to a tee.
We have had just over a year since the azoo diagnose, but had been trying for 5 years. Now that we are approaching IVF, it has suddenly hit home and he is devestated about it.
The truth sucks :(
I really love your oil slick analogy. I've got to share that one with my husband so he'll stop waving lit matches at me.
ReplyDelete