The Trials Begin...

It's been a hectic week, and not a pleasant one for us. Just when everything seemed to be going okay, you-know-what hits the fan.

As I wrote, I was to have a consultation with the urology specialist at the hospital last sunday. They wanted all my previous test results before the meeting, and since those were scattered among numerous hospitals that I visited during my 'roaming' phase, I'd to do a fair amount of travelling to collect them. The FSH test was done at a place near my office. So I duly phoned them up, asked them to keep the result ready for me, and asked my wife to drive me to the railway station.
I reached the lab and collected the result. Then, since I had some time on my hands, I went walkabout and visited a few friends. I reached home around 5pm - to find a small crowd of relatives assembled there.

It turned out that my wife, on the way back from the railway station after dropping me off, fainted at the wheel. She's a fast driver; and she says she was doing about 60kmph on a small, busy, winding road when it happened. By God's grace, she 'woke up' for a moment to skid the car to a halt near the sidewalk. She lay there, windows locked from the inside, for an hour. Then she revived and called her parents from her mobile, who as luck would have it, knew a close friend who lived right next to where the car was parked. They called him; he went to the car and drove her home.
We went to a GP right away, who found that her BP was way too low. Other than that, he said, she was fine. By the next morning she was somewhat okay; she began walking about, though a bit shaky. My appointment was at 2pm, so I went alone to the IVF hospital.

The doctor was friendly and reassuring. I'd googled him the previous day and I found out a bit about him; from what I read, he seems competent enough. He explaind me about the procedure (most of which I already knew from my reading). He asked me about keeping a 'Donor reserve', and on impulse I said no. I've been thinking about that since, and I'm a bit confused now.
On the way back I caught some rain, and reached home with a sore throat. It developed into a full-fledged cold over the last two days; it's still going strong.
If this is just the beginning, then I'm afraid to think ahead.

November Batch?

We've seen the doctor - and we've been tentatively admitted into the 'batch' starting in November. It seems they want to perform a host of tests before they confirm the admission. Now I begin to understand what you people meant when you said this was a waiting game.
A 'batch'! I was surprised. Like it were a school or something. Anyway, I like it. We'd have company, and maybe we'd make a few friends in the batch.

While waiting in the lobby, it was quite interesting to watch the fellow 'patients'. There were about twelve couples who were looking assured and purposeful - obviously from the last 'batch'. Then, three other couples - including us - looking confused and about to bolt from the room. New arrivals.
My wife quickly caught on. She's a great observer. In about half an hour she began whispering to me, keeping up a running commentary of what was happening.
She had identified and categorized the people into four groups: The 'new' guys, those who were going through or had just completed the injections, those who had completed the procedure and were waiting for the scans, and those who had confirmed their luck and were now waiting for advice. I asked her how she knew all that. She outlined the 'symptoms' to me:

'The 'new' guys you can easily spot from the confused look. (Don't know the look? just look in the mirror). They'd whisper together but will keep it short. The 'injection' people look impatient. They don't talk much, and they leave quickly. The 'scan' people, well, get scanned - you heard the nurse telling them to drink plenty of water - that's for scans, right? They probably completed the procedure, that's why they're getting scanned. The 'lucky guys' you can spot easily because they cluster together and keep talking - they're probably wondering if everything is okay. They get called into the docotor's room often and they stay the longest...'

She kept this up until I grew quite scared and asked her to shut up.
I've to meet their urologist/andrologist who's visiting on 23rd. My wife has to face the next barrage of tests on, perhaps, the 28th - the 'second' day.

Two days to go

Busy days for me. I've been reading blogs, crawling through sites with a lens in the old Sherlock's way... Anyhow, I've not yet seen anything to compare with good old Wikipedia. I liked this one though. The animation makes the techniques seem, somehow, reassuring and simple. That's not true, of course.

The way I read it, it simply is a miracle how natural pregnancy occurs. So many complex processes, working together so delicately... It seems a shame to intervene and try the artificial procedures, but what choice do we poor guys and gals have?
I've read enough now. I guess I should start talking to my wife... But, you see, this is another delicate prohlem. She absolutely hates research and knowing things beforehand. She trusts in fate, and of course, in me to control everything if problems arise. You can guess how that makes me feel.

Of course, we've had the general discussion several times. It goes like this.
I'd day, 'Look, girley, this is what we're going to do. I'd like to tell you about what I've read, so that we can be prepared...'
'Well, you've read. Are you prepared?'
'Well no, but...'
'You're worried, right?'
'Yes, I guess, but...'
'Now you want to get me worried, to keep you company?'
I usually go back to reading when the conversation reaches this point.
'Ease up,' she'd say then. 'We're seing a doctor anyway. We'll know all about it in a few days.'

Guess what? I just read that oocyte retrieval happens under general anaesthesia, and I'm scared stiff. I don't know if it's true, and I know it's no big deal to most people, but I'm scared for her all the same. She'd probably laugh it off though, if I were to tell her now. I'm the worrier in the family.

I'm worried about the cost, too. I know that once you've decided, cost is the last concern - but it is a bit hefty, isn't it? As always I've got plans in place, but my plans rarely work without complications. Another ten hairs've gone gray.

PS: Thanks Frank, that's a wonderful blog. And I've met so many fabulous people since I started out here. Tracy, Heather, JJ, Kami, Kristen, Tigger, Sunny, to name a few... You people wouldn't believe how much reading your blogs help me go on. You've all been through it, been there and know about it - and we're just starting out here. Makes me feel humble, and also thankful for all of you.

A few more days...

Once decided on doing something, I'm jittery until I start out on it. The appointment we sought with our doctor got delayed by a week - she's going on a sodding tour. And she had to wait until just before I called to decide to go.
I'm nervous. My wife keeps making fun of me, asking me what suddenly woke me up from the two year sleep, and just why I can't wait another week if I could wait so long. I spun her a hair-raising story connecting sperms, the moon, and the month of September in return.
She's so gullible she'll believe just about anything I say if I keep a straight face while saying it, and it's a heck of a job 'decontaminating' her later. Of course I know that's just because she loves me so much, and it's a constant reminder to me of how lucky I am to be with this girl. Well.

I've been reading up on IVC and ICSI. Perhaps ICSI is more suitable in our case, but let's see what the doctor says. I got worried a bit when I read about the success rates. 30-35%? Oof.

A holiday, and we've been driving up and down the place visiting sick relatives, expecting parents and newborn babies. I might as well have gone to the office, but, man is a social animal, right? Right? And another one - no one is an island. Boy, who writes up these things? And my wife knows every line.

And I thought I was alone...

Well, I've been reefing through the blogosphere, tracking from the comments I got. I'd never imagined that there was a community out there, supporting each other. And I went to a library to research my problem!
Talk about dumb - or is it just bad luck? How could I have known? Why didn't I start blogging on this earlier?

I learned one thing today, from reading a little of the other blogs. What's done is done. Future is what counts.
I've not seen an MIF blog (see, I picked up that phrase so quickly!) yet. I know how difficult it is for a man to speak out on this. But I just know there are some blogs out there, and I'm going to find 'em.

When I read Lance Armstrong's It's Not About the Bike for the first time, I really admired his courage - not (only) for fighting cancer, or for coming back and winning the TdF, but for speaking frankly of his problem and IVF.
When I read the part where he was going to the lab to 'freeze it' before his surgery, I couldn't read on for a while because I choked up. I knew that part. A nurse hands you a sample bottle, shows you a room, gives you a smile, and walks off. Imagine.
You get to see the funny side of it later. Last time, my wife and I half-jokingly considered filling the bottle with a bit of Clinic All-Clear shampoo...

Okay, cheer up everyone. Good news. IVF it is, and I'm going to call the hospital now. Thanks, people, for helping me make up my mind.

The story so far...

Before I start into the future, I'd like to write of what has been.
It took me some nail biting and brooding to finally come to this decision. It really wasn't easy. But if I am to write honestly about this, I have to start at the beginning.

We were so naive, and so incredibly happy, during the first year after marriage. By the second year we were thinking like, hell, what are we doing wrong? After a few tentative queries and answers with more experienced friends, we established we were infact not doing anything wrong. Then the question was reluctantly raised. What was wrong with her?
I confess I was the MCP then. I never thought, is there something wrong with me? No sir. That couldn't happen, could it?
So we went to the gynaecologist and did a lot of tests. To be fair to the good doctor, she asked me at the beginning if I had my semen checked. Boy, was I shocked!
No, I didn't think there was a need for that.
Was I sure?
Of course I was. I was that naive.
Well, it's your money, the doctor didn't say. My wife kept silent too.

After all the tests, it took me a month to go to the lab. I took me an hour to finally bring myself to go inside and 'state the problem'. I cannot say how difficult it was, that first time. (Since then, of course, I've come a long way. Now it's more like, you want it? give me a minute. )

As luck would have it, my wife was with me when I went to collect the result. If I was alone, I probably wouldn't have made it home. I was shocked, and to be honest, scared to death. The result said, 'no spermatozoa seen'.
I hit the sack and stayed there for two whole days. On the third day I 'woke up' and hit the internet. It took me an hour to finally convince myslef I wasn't the only one in the world - and that infertility was not impotence. Well,what a relief. As if I didn't know.

I wasted still more money - and time - rechecking the results at widely scattered labs - what if it was a geographical error? Finally, I went to a specialist. I didn't take my wife along. It wasn't her problem anymore, wasn't it? This was my enemy, and I was going to fight it alone. Boy, just thinking of my behaviour during those days make me sick. I don't know how my wife stood me.

By then, I was reading up on the problem - and growing up too, emotionally. I've done my share of tests now.
My FSH - that is, Follicular Stimulating Hormone in blood - is normal. If it's too high, there has to be testicular malfunction. I guess it's like this. If the testes are not functioning, the body tries to stimulate it my generating more FSH. Since the hormone level is normal, it has to be okay.
Semen fructose was also normal. The first conclusion was a 'block'.
Then came a testicular biopsy. That, to my relief, turned up a 'few sperms'. Guys, I asked them mentally, 'you playing hide and seek?'

The final verdict was IVF, or in-vitro fertilization. I balked at that. It didn't seem natural to me, and I wanted a second opinion, and I wanted to learn more about it. And, of course, I wanted to think about it. I've been thinking about it, on and off, stalling for time and hoping for a miracle, the last six months. I guess the time's come now to take a decision.

Okay, here are the lessons I learned, for what they are worth.

1. If you feel you need to see a doctor, go to a specialist first. Don't leave it to the last.
2. Get the semen test done, before any other test. Go to a specialist lab, where the process is not too stressful.
3. Finally, always take your partner along with you.

People, thanks for all the comments. I was so surprised by them, because I really started the blog just to take the weight off my chest. The world has a habit of reminding you, once in a while, that it really is a nice place.

So, What's Life?

These days, I really wonder about that. At times, I fear I'm going senile a little too early. I mean, people, I'm just 33 years old! Okay, that's approaching middle age, but... the meaning of life? Is that something proper to think about now? But I confess I do. I really wonder why I've been put here, on this little round thing that goes round and round another round thing... no, that sounds silly. Heck, I wanted to start writing a seroius blog!

Okay, back up. I'll start again. I've been married for three years now. My wife, the most beautiful woman on earth, is perfectly okay. Me, the gnome who's scrabbling to climb up the walls of the pit into the civilized world, is not. It seems I have this infertility problem... and both of us want a baby so bad that we would steal one if we could. No, not really, but we are perfectly capable of thinking about stealing one. Okay, so you get the problem?

As I said, I often wonder about life. How's it that the guys whom I know make babies by accident and then get rid of them without even blinking an eyelid while we've been going down all sorts of paths - boy, I better not get started on all the paths now - find ourselves blocked by this seemingly insurmountable brick wall called infertility? You see, I'm not too bad a complainer either...

Okay, this is getting too gloomy for a serious blog.
Yesterday, we were - my wife and I - driving home from an outing. On the way she saw a nice ad-poster of a jewellery, with a girl draped in a sparkling silk saree smiling at the whole wide world.
'Hub, look at that girl,' she said. 'What a figure!'
I, wise after many responses and subsequent reactions, remained silent.
'Remember how you complained about the cost of the facial that I had last week? These girls do whole body facials! Think about that!'
'Bocials,' I replied.
'What?'
'When you do it on the face, it's a facial,' I explained. 'When it's the whole body, it's a bocial.'
She thought about it for a while. She kept looking at me sideways to make sure I was not smirking. She was convinced after five minutes of delibration, and she made a decision.
'When we become rich,' she said, 'I'm going to get a bocial too.'

I too made a decision then. The punchline I was preparing turned sour in my mouth as I suddenly realized how much I loved her. I knew that there was something she wanted even more than a bocial, and here I was, stalling, watching time slip away, hoping Nature would cure me by a miracle. There. That's said now. We're going to make a baby, whatever it takes.