Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Goodbye, Spermies.

Today we said a sad farewell to J’s sperm.  We knew that was how today would go.  We woke up at 6 this morning to a truly epic thunderstorm, the kind of storm where, after your house stops shaking, you ask, “is that the loudest thunder you’ve ever heard?”  The kind of storm that leads you to reminisce about a night more than 10 years ago—when the big fear was not finding a job and infertility was something that happened to other people—where we sat under the large awning of a deserted dorm in Fredricksburg, watching lightning dance across the sky so often we couldn’t tell one thunderclap from another.  The kind of thunderstorm that reminds you that you used to cuddle in bed and talk for hours.  So we cuddled, and talked a little, and listened to the thunder roll around our little house.  And we didn’t talk about the appointment we were about to go to.  No need.  We’re all talked out.


J’s sperm count is still below 1 mil.  Almost uncountable.  His hormone levels are fine now, but the sperm just aren’t developing.  Dr. World-Renowned can’t explain it, but he’s done all he can. 


So on we go to donor sperm.  I slipped out of the doc’s office a few minutes before J was done to get things lined up with my nurses.  When I told them what the plan was, she asked how I felt about it. 


“I’m really sad,” I told her, feeling the tears well up behind my eyes.  “But it’s going to feel so good to do something different this time.  Maybe now, if I get a positive beta, I won’t find myself just counting days until the inevitable loss.”


She nodded.  “You’ve been carrying this burden for a long time,” she said. 


And that’s how I feel.  Today I’m sad.  And I’m sure I’ll be sad again.  But goddammit, I’m ready to MOVE ON. 


Last Saturday we babysat our best friends’ 16-month-old boy.  And guess what?  I still want one.  (It didn’t hurt that he was an angel for us the entire evening; he fell asleep in my arms while we watched John Lester take a no-hitter into the 7th—what could be better?) 


But the most wonderful thing was watching J with that little boy.  Playing with him in the park; feeding him his yogurt that night; holding him on his lap while we watched the game.  So yeah, I’m giving up J’s genes.  But I’m not giving up watching him be a daddy.  And it’s about fucking time that we made that happen.



Kate said...

I hope the DS do their thing and get you and DH a baby!
I've been worrying about having to take that step one day, as my DH is adamantly opposed to DS. He seems to want the bio connection or none at all, and doesn't seem to respond well to the arguments that adoption can be very hard, and that picking DS or DE if necessary at least allows you control of your baby's prenatal environment. Sure I'd like to have his genes in our kid, but I'd rather go through a pregnancy and then parent with him.
How did things work out with the lupron?

Lea said...

It sounds like a rough day. I'm sorry that you didn't get better news. But moving on is good, good, good!

Nikki said...

Such a tough spot to be in - I'm so sorry for you, girl. But I'm glad you're ready to move on and I'm glad you're keeping your sight on making Jay a daddy, no matter what!

I don't mean to pry, and I'm sure you've done your research, but is PESA / TESA an option for you and Jay? Here is an article that Dr. Google threw up: http://www.ivf-infertility.com/ivf/pesa.php

Good luck to you guys. And please keep blogging your updates. Also, sorry I didn't comment on your last post. It was almost as if I could have written part of it myself. I read it, cried, and then read it out to my DH and cried some more. :-( Totally broke my already broken heart.

satto said...

I'm sorry for your loss. I hope DS gets you your family. Your DH sounds like he's gonna be a great dad.

annacyclopedia said...

Oh, sweetheart! I just want to give you the biggest hug ever. Even when you know you are headed here, it is still very sad. Hoping you can be gentle with yourselves as you start moving forward with hope for a big, big change to come. And I'm here to talk anytime you need. This is an exciting time, too.

Ms. J said...

I admit not being comfortable or being able to understanding when I hear people express the desire to have a bio-connection with their child, or comments like "but our child won't have my husband's eyes," etc.

Our daughter obviously does not have my eyes nor his . . . and they infinitely more beautiful.

And she is most definitely "ours."

For us, the goal was parenthood. That was the end game, the be all.

I am glad that you had this babysitting experience to remind you that the joy of a child still has it's magic, and can drive your desires :o)

Astrid said...

Good for you. Great plan, great attitude. I see this as a positive next step and it seems you do too. Embrace that feeling, the excitement revived. Whatever reservations that linger will disappear within minutes of seeing a healthy kicker on the u/s. It will be your child. Together.

one-hit_wonder said...

Ahhhhh, that sucks. :( But glad that, in moving on, you're both in agreement on what to do. Wish I could give you a hug, though. It's all so hard.

Newt said...

Cheers to moving on. J is going to be a great dad, in every important sense.

You HAVE been carrying this burden for a long time--I am all ready to start crossing fingers and toes and holding my breath that it's almost time for it to lift.

Good Egg Hunting said...

Am so inspired by your tone in this post...I hear the fighting spirit even amid the sadness, and I think it is so healthy. I can tell you are ready for the next step and I hope it is the one that gets you your baby. I just know both of you are going to be amazing parents when it happens...it will be so great for you to finally see your husband be a dad.

Shinejil said...

You have been carrying this burden a long time. I hope you get to put it down soon.

I'm sorry you two have been faced with this heartwrenching decision. You have somehow grasped the true goal, however--to love and raise a child--and that's important. You've done everything you could.

Barb said...

I'm sorry for your loss, but what a wonderful ending to this post. You're going to make me cry! You're right. It's going to be amazing to see him be a daddy!

kate said...

God, that sucks. I am so sorry. But- like others have said, if DS allows for you to make your family and it allows you and J to become parents then YES. You are right. It is time to move forward, to leave that bit of sadness aside and plunge onward with this cycle now. I will be thinking of you (even if it takes me several days to get back here to comment!)

Jaded Girl said...

i'm coming to terms with the fact that genes are terribly overated. i am not minimizing your angst here - because i get it. i am trying to get my husband to think about donor sperm as a possibility and he doesn't like it, but prefers it to adoption. i think you just get to a point where you just want to be a parent, and you don't want to have any more losses, hurts and dissapointments. i think you are just at a point where you can take this news and process it well. and i am so glad that although a difficult path, that it STILL IS a path on your way to parenthood.

this is a milestone - a turning point and i hope that when you have a moment or two you both recognize it for what it is.

hugs, and the best to you both on this journey.