The Beginning (A Husband's Perspective)

Everyone is always taught or acknowledges that infertility is something taboo. Something best kept in the shadows like a dirty little secret. People may joke about it but never think it will happen to them. They may gasp and say how terrible it is once they find out someone they know is suffering from infertility. We especially can’t bring ourselves to think about, let alone talk about infertility in men.

At a very young age, especially as young boys, we are all taught about the family dynamic and in the traditional sense the role males play in population. Along with being thought what society thinks a proper male should act, fatherhood is the most basic of tasks for men. Heck it is probably the one thing evolutionists and creationists can both agree on. It is no wonder why there is such a stigma around the very idea of male infertility. 

Let me take a step back and tell you my story. As far back as I could remember, I always wanted to be a dad. I didn’t know with who, that would come later, but I knew I wanted to be a dad. The idea of reading to a child, teaching them life lessons, telling them the mistakes I made to help them avoid them, sharing in mutual interests as well as learning about their personal interests, a game of catch and trying to figure out the shape of clouds; it just all interested me. Heck I even liked the idea of attending school concerts and PTA meetings. Maybe I was destined for it or maybe it was because that’s not what I had. Don’t get me wrong under the circumstances, I know my father tried especially with what he knew but I wanted more and I was going to be the one to break that cycle. 

Then one day I met the one and her name was Brienne. Even early on when we were talking I knew this was the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. For the first time in my life I was head over heels in love and I was even picturing my future with her, even getting clearer pictures of my future kids. It was something I never felt before. The sensation of falling deeply in love with someone and knowing they are the one was a feeling and high like no other. The more I got to know Brienne and the longer we dated the more I fell in love with her and the more I could picture our future and our future children. I always loved talking about our future children. 

While our individual story may be different the path we took was generally the same as other couples. A typical boy and girl meet, they fall in love, they get married, buy a house and embrace their future and welcome the journey and their future family growing.  Brienne and I have been married for 4 years. A year into our marriage we both agreed it was time for Brienne to stop taking birth control due to previous negative affects. While we weren’t actively trying to get pregnant yet as we would try family planning and tracking, we were okay if it happened. We knew this is what we both wanted and parts of us were excited at the possibility. 

As the calendar turned from months to years, we both sensed something could be wrong but left that in the back of our minds. While there was some truth in our jokes that something could be wrong we were hopeful that it was nothing. Just a bad case of mistiming and bad fortune and nothing else but we kept going on our journey. As the years went by, each late period she had gave me a sense of hope and joy and then was met with disappointment when we were greeted with an unwanted visitor. I never let Brienne see my disappointment because I didn’t want her to worry just in case but more importantly our time was coming I just knew it. I mean how could I not? I knew we would be perfect parents and this was meant to be. Then our story took a turn for the worse. 

One day Brienne had a physical and during the appointment the doctor asked how long we had been having sex without birth control. When Brienne told her, the doctor held no punches. She immediately said she was concerned because even with tracking, couples end up pregnant. She prescribed Brienne medication that usually helps with fertility and then advised we see fertility specialists. When Brienne came home and told me, mentally I wrote off what the doctor said. Even though those fears were in the back of our minds, I didn’t want to believe it. There could not be something wrong. Clearly the doctor was wrong but I welcomed any assistance. 

After several months of still no pregnancy, we knew we had to face our fears and seek medical attention. I spoke to my primary doctor and he agreed with Brienne’s doctor and suggested I see a urologist. 

During the initial consultation, I had to inform the doctor that as a child I had to have surgery to have my testes be lowered back into the scrotum after they rose up again because we read that could be a factor of infertility. After the initial exam, he reported the testes had proper size and shape, but he did feel a varicose vein on one side which could have an impact but more tests would be needed. Leaving the consultation, I left feeling that I was okay but fear quickly set in that maybe it was Brienne. 

Leading up to our appointment with the infertility doctor, I began preparing myself. Assuming worse case with me was maybe a low sperm count, I prepared myself with the possibility it was Brienne and wrapping my head around  that possibility so I could do what mattered most; be supportive for the woman I love most.

Then the day came, it was time to meet the infertility specialist. After the meeting, the doctor ordered a series of tests for Brienne ranging from blood tests to painful tests. It killed me seeing Brienne subjected to this pain and stress and there was nothing I could do to save her. Unfortunately this was the path to find out what the next steps were. However, to our surprise, as the tests came back one by one the results were not what either of us expected. Even though we are still waiting for some results, the results we received were pointing to Brienne being just fine. What was the issue? 

Then it was my turn to participate. The doctor ordered a semen analysis. Even though I was allowed to take the test at home it didn’t make it any less awkward or stressful. I kept thinking about if it was me. Even as I drove the specimen to the hospital all I could think about was how low is my sperm count or is it worse, are my sperm unhealthy? When I dropped off the specimen, the lab tech informed me it will take at least a week to get my results. As you might expect, I was a bit shocked to get a call from the office only 3 days later. The voice on the other end told me that while the doctor isn’t worried, I have to take the test again because they were having trouble with the specimen and I needed to take the test again, this time in their office. What do you mean something was wrong?  The rest of that week my thoughts were all over the place but I still thought it is okay because I’m my mind it just had to be. 

Then came judgement day. It was test 2 day. I arrive to the office and they led me to the room. While it was just around the corner, I felt like I was walking a mile up hill. Then there I was. It was me in a room with that dreaded cup. Is this a sick punishment for something I did in the past? It felt like I was in solitary confinement. After much stress and awkward feelings, once I completed the test, I walked the  specimen to the tech. Even though I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. He informed me that the issue with the first test was no sperm could be found. He began to explain that if they found sperm the results could take a week or more but if no sperm was found again, the doctor would find out that day. No sperm? How is that possible? Well, here is to hoping for a call in a week I thought. 

Then later that day, the unthinkable happened. I looked down at my phone and saw the phone number. It was the doctor’s office. The call was not a week, it was only a few hours. I didn’t want to answer it but I had to. Although nice, the voice on the other line informed me the test results were the same and I needed to come in for blood tests. I was also told I needed to see a urologist who specializes in male infertility. 

That was a week and a half ago and let my tell you this has been the hardest week and a half of my life. The initial thought was numbness. I was devastated and I didn’t know what happened. Once that passed, I was in for a roller coaster ride like no other. I was angry. Angry at the lab because I wanted to believe they did something wrong, they ruined 

my specimen or they switched my results with someone else. Angry at the doctor for leaving me to Google research which made life harder instead of telling me this isn’t the end of the road. I was mad at the surgeon when I was a kid because maybe they did something wrong and caused this. I was also mad at myself because maybe I missed a sign and if I just listened I could have stopped this. 

Then came sadness. There was sadness in myself. I felt the pain and loneliness of losing a loved one. There was sadness when we told family and friends what was happening. I felt I was letting them all down. There was also confusion. Not only was there confusion in how this could happen and why me, there was confusion in my masculinity. My whole life I have always been confident about my masculinity, but now I find myself questioning it. Does this make me less of a man? What will people think of me? How do they view me now. I even began feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. 

Perhaps the worst feeling of all was the guilt and sadness I had for Brienne. This is the woman I love. I can say 100% say she is my better half. She makes me want to be a better me and I would die a million deaths for her to be okay. I never wanted to hurt her but here I am hurting her most of all. I could see the sadness in her eyes and watching her deal with the sadness was crushing. I felt guilty because I was the one causing her this pain and despite her saying she didn’t want anyone else, part of me wondered if she was better off without me. I wondered if she still found me attractive. These feelings just kept playing in my head. 

When the dust cleared, there we were. Just the two of us. We realized while family and friends supported us, we were in this together and like everything else in our life, we were going to overcome this together. We always do. 

If you are reading this. Don’t pity me. I am not looking for “I am sorry” or sad puppy dog eyes. This is our story. It is a unique story and it is ours. This blog is part therapy, part breaking the chains of a stigma so loud that the world can hear it and part a place we can look back. This is going to be a difficult journey and we both know that and our entries will reflect all of those emotions. There is no turning back, there is only forward and we will overcome. 

If you came to this entry because you or a loved one received the dreaded diagnosis, welcome. I wanted to start off by saying you are not to blame and you most certainly are not alone. While this is our journey, I hope you stay and follow our story as you navigate your own. Just think of it as a support group. We are friends now and friends must look after each other. 

I just wanted to leave you with one final thought. I always believed this but after this news I know it’s true impact. Be kind to one another and choose your words carefully. On the outside someone may seem fine but inside there may be tears and screams you are unaware of. Be supportive and lend a helping hand. It may seem small to you, but I assure you to then it will mean the world. 

Until next time.