Wednesday of this week was D-Day. A bomb went off and blew up every hope, every dream, every happy place we had ever built.
Test results: Negative.
1 mm of semen contains around 4 million sperm. Unless you suffer from azoospermia. Then, the count is zero.
For over a year we have tried, cried, prayed, felt anger, disappointment, frustration, confusion and hurt. Now, we know. There is a 0% chance of becoming pregnant.
Defeated, saddened beyond our wildest dreams. Lost.
Sweet hubby goes in for another test on Monday. If result is still negative for sperm he will move forward with testing to see if there is something they can correct, or not.
People have said, "Well you can have mine sweety! Take them." Helpful? Nope, not at all. I'd rather you had just been quiet.
People have said, "Just relax, it will happen." Really? Walk in our shoes for a while. I bet you wouldn't relax.
People have said, "When you stop thinking about it, it will happen." Um, pardon me. Have you ever longed for something so deeply that the thought of not having something takes the air our of your lungs? You can't stop thinking about it.
Friends, who weren't trying, have become pregnant. Friend who have tried, pregnant immediately after beginning to try. Babies have been born. Christenings. Showers. Play Dates.
I'd give up all the niceties in life to hold our baby, with Chase's sweet temper and beautiful eyes, in my arms. Nice house? No, I don't care. Nice car? I'll give it up. Dinners out? Who cares - I'll take the ramen. To stay at home and love, cuddle, teach, grow. I'll give it all away... to be a mommy. To watch my unbelievably, undeniable, sweet, darling, loving, intelligent, strong husband hold his child, love his child, be called "Daddy."
For now friends, please, please just hush. Smile. Be a shoulder. Cry with us. But please, no advice.
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