My Sweet Michael...

Oh, where do I begin? I really need to document what an amazing man I am married to. I am constantly amazed by how much I love this man. I shouldn't be, he is really easy to love. He has been my solid rock through the last 18 months. He would be right there to pick me up off the floor, literally. He would come home to me sobbing on the bathroom floor because I had just gotten another negative pregnancy test and wipe away my tears. He would shield me from situations that he knew might be impossible for me to handle like birth announcements, pregnancy announcements, and baby shower invitations. Some days he would come home, find me in bed watching TLC's "A Baby Story" with the curtains drawn (this would be most likely be the day after a BFN). He would rip the curtains open, turn the t.v. off, and pull me out of bed. He simply would not allow me to wallow and I really needed that. He was always right there and he still is.

I feel bad looking back now because I was so broken hearted every single month for a year, I couldn't see that his heart was breaking just as much as mine was. He even said one day that he didn't feel like he was allowed to fall apart because of what a mess I was. That breaks my heart now. I didn't allow him to grieve because I was so wrapped up in my own pain.

In August 2009, we found out why we couldn't get pregnant. Michael is deficient in sperm quantity and quality and we don't know why. We visited a urologist shortly after getting his SA results back. We were 100% convinced his problem was fixable. Varicoeles (a condition in which varicose veins in the testicles depletes sperm counts and sometimes alter the quality) are common in his family. We thought he MUST have one too and we would get surgery and then we would be able to have baby! We were filled with hope once again and it was off to the urologist to confirm it. Nope. He does not have a single one and devastated us both. It was the first time we had met with a specialist to go over the SA and find out EXACTLY what it meant.

Let me say that after we found the problem, we immediately started processing what it meant for us. We knew fertility treatments were in the cards and I immediately started researching IUI (intrauterine insemination, a process where they wash a sperm sample and inject into the fallopian tubes when the women is ovulating). This reality was a little overwhelming because we were wondering how we were going to be able to afford the $500 per treatment IUI. We were ready to make it work. It makes me laugh now because we had no clue what we were in for.

Back to the urologist...I started crying in the office when he said Michael did not have a varicocele and I realized that IUI was imminent. Wrong again. After interpreting the numbers, the doctor was concerned about his membrane function and said, "It's likely that that IUI will not be a good option for you." What? The membrane function and morphology determines whether or not the sperm can penetrate the egg, the key factor in IUI. "The REs can do a form of IVF called ICSI where they inject the sperm directly into the egg." Again, WHAT?

Our world fell apart at that moment. We came to this appointment with so much hope and left deflated, feeling for the first time that we may never have children. Up until this point, we never thought it would come down to IVF to have a baby. The idea was so foreign to me and all I really knew about it was that it's EXPENSIVE! The urologist didn't know for sure but he threw out the ball park figure of $10,000-$15,000 (head spinning, stomach turning, water works, @#$&*??!!, pretty much pure chaos in my head). We already had an appointment scheduled with an RE for the following week.

Okay, so we have to spend a fortune on having a baby. That's fine. We can do this. It's amazing the range of emotions one can experience in the matter of hours. I was mad, mad that WE had to spend so much money just to become pregnant when most people get to do it for free. I was mournful; mourning the children I knew we might never have, even if the procedure worked. Paying upwards of $10,000 per child puts the kibosh on having loads of kids. I was fearful that it wouldn't work. I could go on and on. Ultimately, I was hopeful and would do anything we needed to do to have our own children. Michael took a little longer to come around.

I watched my rock crumble over the next couple of days. I watched him lay on the couch for two days, depressed and stewing over the thought that somehow this was all his fault. He started looking at adoption options with LDS family services (I will save that for another post). He was defeated. Now, I had to be the strong one. I had to pick him up and tell him it was going to be okay and that it was not his fault. I have not once blamed him, or wished I had married someone with super sperm, or today, even wished it was different. I realize now that this is a trial we have been given by Heavenly Father and I'm grateful it's not something more difficult like a serious illness, homelessness, death, etc. This has bonded us like super glue and going through this is going to make the result so much sweeter. Michael is just as optimistic as can be now but, again, more on that later.

Michael, I officially apologize for being such a basket case and not letting you fall apart now and again. I love you and I can't imagine my life without you. Happy Valentines Day!