Selecting the Right Sperm

So the whole process of selecting which donor sperm you want to go with has been a mix of fascination, trepidation, amusement, and still some sadness. I am able to go through this process almost as if it's an extension of browsing through one of my favorite catalogs (yes, I'm a shopper). Let's see, do I want the guy with the dark hair and eyes, or should we go for one of those Nordic donors? Ooh, there's an exotic section of donors who are comprised of unique backgrounds, too. Ok - a little too exotic.

Having always been an extremely organized individual, I take to this task as though it's a series of items I need to check off of my to-do list. Make a list of qualities you want the sperm donor to possess...check...set up an account with the sperm bank...check...check insurance coverage on infertility...check...setup an appointment with a couples therapist...check...But sometimes I put the brakes on my full-steam-ahead mentality when I can see in my husband's eyes that this is still hurting him. And then I question whether this is still the right path to pursue. We'll go for days and sometimes even weeks without discussing this topic in depth, but every time we bring it up - he still wants to pursue it. I do, too. So we move on.

We browsed through the donor catalog for several weeks before we started to narrow down the choices. It finally came down to 2 donors, and number 1 was the clear winner in our eyes. Number 2 was in the running too, but we just thought we'd nailed it with all the similarities to my husband that we'd identified in the front-runner. The last step we opted to pursue was to have the sperm bank perform a photographic match of my husband to these final candidates. The results were very surprising - my husband matched almost perfectly to the 2nd donor! The lady on the phone even said that they could pass for brothers. And yes - he was a very poor match to the guy which we orginally thought had been "the one". So after a brief discussion, we opted to go with Number 2, and ordered up his goods to be delivered and stored at my doctor's office.

Going With the Donor Sperm Route

After many months of deliberation, and extended periods of time when we didn't discuss our azoospermia issue, we decided to go with the donor sperm route. There were many reasons for this, but which I am not going to delve into detail on this blog. Suffice it to say that it took quite a bit of soul-searching, and my husband finally decided that he wanted a child that was a part of me, even if he couldn't contribute his DNA to the picture. I felt elated, tentative, and sad all at the same time. Elated that I may finally get pregnant and experience the joys associated with pregnancy, labor, and delivery. Tentative that this might not work. I do have a potentially blocked fallopian tube - what if they find other issues with me as well? My husband had male infertility, but what if I had other issues that we just hadn't uncovered yet? Lastly, I felt sad because of the sense of loss I had knowing that I would never have my husband's child. And I know he felt this too.

Considering Adoption

When we first learned about the diagnosis, we started to discuss adoption. I tried to picture how I would react adopting a child, and thought that felt ok. I had to bite my tongue because when my husband first mentioned donor sperm (per his urologist's suggestion), he quickly dismissed it as something he didn't think he could ever go through. So as quickly as my hopes were raised that I could still have the baby be a part of me, they were dashed by my husband who didn't think he could bring himself to go that route. I decided to not verbalize the hurt I felt, because we were both hurting enough already. Besides, adoption could still work out great. We both knew several families that had adopted, and were very happy and fulfilled.

I started researching adoption on the internet, and was quickly overwhelmed at what I found. There are domestic and international options, and it seemed that the international route was more promising, just because of the increased chances of adopting an infant, which is what we wanted. We both thought it would be neat to adopt from China, and I was also excited to see we could potentially adopt a Vietnamese child. I even emailed a lady who headed up one of the Vietnam adoption agencies, but it didn't feel quite right. Deep down, I still wanted to investigate the donor sperm option, and I knew it was time to talk to my husband about it. Adoption would have to wait for now.

D-Day aka SA Results

It may be a let-down that this post doesn't cover my husband's experiences with providing his sperm sample, but I just don't feel I could do it justice to summarize his experience. I'll have to see if I can convince him to author a post and share his perspective on this himself. I think it'd be more authentic that way. Oh honey...

So as I already detailed in my first post, my husband received the dreaded news from my OB/GYN that he had no sperm, which is also known as azoospermia. I wasn't home at the time, and didn't know yet. When I did get home, he didn't answer to my calls. Was he upstairs, or outside, or something? I headed upstairs, and I was taken aback as I saw him standing in our master bathroom, in front of his vanity. The look on his face said it all: something was wrong.

We had been waiting several days for the SA results, so it didn't automatically occur to me that it was this that could cause him to be so upset. When I asked him what was wrong, he simply stated that the test results were in and that he...had...no...sperm. What?! What do you mean you don't have any sperm? What does that even mean? You don't have any at all??

I was surprised at how calmly I was reacting. It was very surreal. There we were, discussing one of the most shocking moments of our lives, and I felt like everything was moving in slow motion. A good chunk of my world had just been pulled out from under me, and all my assumptions and hopes about getting pregnant as soon as we were ready to were dashed in the few seconds it took for him to tell me the diagnosis.

The rest of that conversation is a bit of a blur for me. I remember breaking down and crying at one point, but it wasn't even a real hearty cry. It was a I'm-just-so-shocked-I-don't-know-what-the-hell-to-do type of cry. And my hubby was pretty stoic yet emotional at the same time, if that makes sense.

For all you men out there, take note. It never once occurred to me that I should leave my husband because he could not father my child. This is something that he felt would be a horrible yet acceptable course of action on my part, considering our situation. That is not what marriage is about, and I knew we just needed to process this information and figure out where to go from there - together.

He had to go through some additional tests to determine whether he had a blockage or not (he didn't), and the last resort (extracting some sperm through needle aspiration of the testes) was dashed when the urologist didn't think that a viable option.

The HSG Test

On the day of the scheduled HSG test, my husband accompanied me to the lab that was going to conduct the procedure. I was a bit surprised when they didn't let him accompany me into the exam room, but tentatively felt ok to brave it alone. I'm not a major wimp, but it was more fear of the unknown that was giving me butterflies in my stomach. My doc had quickly explained to me that they stick a catheter up your cervix and inject dye into you...this dye then paints the uterus and flows out of the fallopian tubes, if your tubes are unobstructed. So the part about dye flowing out of my fallopian tubes, while a bit out there, didn't really worry me. It was the part about the catheter up the cervix that really had me worried. As it turns out, I was partly right to worry about that point...

First of all, this next section is something that all females should be able to relate to and empathize with me on! Let me just start by saying that the doctor performing the procedure was a man. Now I am not discriminating against male doctors, before anyone gets upset. But it's an important aspect to point out because not all male doctors are "in tune" with a woman's anatomy and some of the finer points that should accompany any procedure that happens "down there".

My horror first began when I saw him take out a speculum, and without another thought, he started to head to my nether region. The problem in this was that he didn't lube it, or even dip it into any water. He forced it into me, and as if that pain and discomfort wasn't enough, he then proceeded to TURN the speculum while it was inside of me!!! Again, if you're a woman - you are probably gasping in horror, because you can probably imagine how it felt to have the lips of the speculum (that hang over on the side) scrape against my vaginal wall. Not good.

Once I got over that, he started to feed the catheter into my uterus, and was kind enough to warn me that it was about to enter the cervix. Ok, I'm good with that. I could feel some slight pressure as he fed it into the cervix, but I was starting to think it wasn't going to be so bad. Then he told me he was going to pump up the balloon in the catheter, which would act as a cervix plug and prevent the dye, once expelled, from leaking out of the uterus by way of the cervix opening.

This is when the cramping began. And I'm not talking the kind you get with your period, even if they're bad. I'm talking the type of cramping that made me want to double-over in pain, and I even let a moan escape. It was that bad. The next several minutes, the doctor proceeded to take pictures of my innards while occasionally re-adjusting my position...get on your side...get on your other side...get on your back again...I had to bear this a bit longer than usual because he couldn't get my right tube to drain. As time went on, the level of pain did decrease, although only slightly. I guess I was just dull to the pain now. I also felt like a had a huge gas bubble in my belly, and I so wished I could stick a needle in my stomach to relieve the pressure.

Then, the doc deflated the balloon, and removed the catheter and speculum. Yes, there was more pain at the removal phase, but not as bad as just a few moments ago. They had me wait in the exam room while the xrays were developed, and I was so uncomfortable (still had the sensation of a huge, volatile gas bubble in my belly), that I couldn't find any position, sitting or standing, where I was comfortable. I finally settled into a half-standing position, where I was doubled-over and leaning on the exam table. It must have been a lovely sight for the assistant to walk in and see me like this.

Bottom-line results showed that my right fallopian tube never did manage to drain any dye. To this day, I'm not sure if my tube is in fact blocked, or whether the high amount of cramping that I experienced had simply blocked the tube temporarily. Apparently this happens sometimes. The good news was that my left tube did drain, so I have at least 1 tube in good working condition.

Maybe We Should Get Checked Out

As I mentioned in my first post on this blog, my husband and I (who I will from this point onward refer to as my dear "hubby") had been trying to conceive for almost a year when the nagging worries started to creep in at an increasingly alarming rate. When we first started trying, I was excitedly doing research on how to become pregnant, and learned about the fascinating world of ovulation and all the funky things you can look at to determine if you're producing eggs. Ah yes - I charted my temps, tracked my cervical fluid (I hate the word mucous in this context, or in any context for that matter. It just sounds gross and is not a word I choose to use to describe something that emanates from my body.), and read up on lots of information on the internet about a woman's cycle and when best to do the deed to maximize your changes of getting pregnant. But month after month, my heart would drop as I'd start yet another cycle after thinking that every headache, backache, and bit of queasiness that I experienced during the 2 week wait meant that I had "surely gotten knocked up this time".

So we scheduled an appointment with my OB/GYN and came in for a consultation. I was to have an HSG test, and hubby was to have a semen analysis (SA). The HSG would tell whether my fallopian tubes were blocked, and the SA would verify that my husband had healthy swimmers. I also had some other tests as well, but I forget what they were called...something about measuring my hormone levels to make sure I was producing enough progesterone, maybe? So off we went to get the tests done, of which I will provide a brief description in my next post.

*Please Note: I found it extremely helpful as we embarked on this process to be knowledgeable about my cycle and the nuances within. If you've been trying to conceive (TTC) for awhile, I highly recommend that you learn about fertility in general, and chart your temps and any unique items that make you, you. Once I entered this whirlwind of diagnosis, I could hold my own talking about temping, ovulation, cycle days, what-have-you, with my doc. And this was only possible because I became self-educated, NOT because I had a particularly informative doc who took the time needed to explain all these concepts to me. Another useful tip - request copies of all test results so you will have your own file on your medical history, and can keep the myriad of doctors you may deal with straight on the facts. Doctors are intelligent but busy people, and it is very easy for them to miss details in your file that are important to highlight, address, etc. If you are new to fertility and want to learn more, look for a future post that will provide useful information on your quest for newfound knowledge.

Let's Give This Blog Thing a Try

Where do I begin? First of all, I'm pretty new to blogging. Don't get me wrong; I know what blogs are, and have even checked some out after I read a magazine article that included some honorable mentions. Then today, the idea struck me to search for a blog that I could relate to, particularly in one aspect of my life. I couldn't find one. I found many, many blogs that I could partially relate to...but nothing that was exactly right. Random thought - I hear a voice in my head reciting that part from Little Red Riding Hood: "This porridge is too thick...this porridge is too thin...this porridge is just right...". Who knows if it was even porridge that Little Red Riding hood was sampling, and if it was the consistency of the meal that put her off. Whatever the case, I digress.

What I'm really looking for is a way to connect with other folks who are in a similar situation as my husband and I are in. We're trying to conceive (TTC), and we're now chasing the 2-year mark. About 1 year into this journey, we finally started to wonder if something was wrong. I never doubted my ability to by a fertile myrtle (is that how one spells that word??), as evidenced by my highly fertile sisters and mother - who, bless her heart, had 5 kids! Surprisingly enough, she just recently told me that my grandmother got extremely upset with her after she had her tubes tied shortly after my birth - I guess grandma thought the perfect number of kids was 10. Aye, caramba!

So after the usual gamet of tests (I'll get into the details of my test results in a separate post), we got the most shocking news of our lives...my husband's semen analysis (SA) had come in, and he had no sperm. Just like that. That's how my OB/GYN delivered the news to him. No emotion, no "I'm sorry to have to tell you this..." type of lead-in. She just dropped the news on him like a lead balloon.

So this is where my story begins (at least for the purposes of this blog), and where I'll chronicle the trials and tribulations that began on that fateful autumn day in 2005.