Thoughts four days after getting bad news

So we got the news on Friday that the Clomid, which we had hoped would be the miracle drug that pushed us to the point where we could get pregnant on our own, has not improved our chances. At all. And in fact, we've moved backwards from where we were back in July, at least in terms of total count. I got the phone call around 11:30am on Friday... as soon as she told me the count, I started shaking. My stomach immediately started churning, and I felt like throwing up. The poor nurse girl tried to spin the results as positively as she could, highlighting how my motility has improved into the good-to-excellent range, and how the morphology stayed the same since July, which is still an improvement over where we started a year ago. But she obviously didn't want to deliver the bad news... I guess I'm grateful to her at least for that, as it meant that she recognized how difficult this could be to hear. I wrapped up at work as quickly as I could and bolted for the door - I wasn't going to be any good to anyone else there for the rest of the day, and I needed to be at home with my wife. Both for her sake, and for my own.

I didn't want to call and tell my wife the news... who out there EVER wants to call their spouse and give them news like this? I knew that this would hit her the same way it hit me. But I also didn't want to just show up suddenly at home, five hours before I was supposed to be there, and cause her a heart attack wondering what the hell was going on. So I made the unwanted phone call. And I told her I was in the car already and leaving work immediately. And then I got home as fast as I damn could. Fortunately traffic threw no unexpected surprises at my distracted state of mind. Then as soon as I got home, my wife and I hugged each other tight for several minutes, and the tears began. Then we went to the couch, and we cried in each others' arms for an hour. I don't think I ever cried that long, even when my grandmom died.

We did a lot of talking that day - about how life is unfair and why us and what do we do now and does God hate us and how much this fucking sucks. And boy, does it ever. We cried some more, and talked a lot more, and the next two days, we did more of the same. Then somehow, we came away from it all a lot more at peace with the situation than I thought would be possible for a very long time. That doesn't mean there won't still be bad days, because there will. There will be more tears to come, too. But I am amazed at my incredible wife, and while, yeah, we're scared as hell to be where we are... if I have to go through this, if I have to be here, then there's no one else I'd rather do it with than this amazing woman by my side. I've said it from the start, and believe it now more than ever, that there's nothing we can't face together.

So now it's been four days since we got the news, and I've been back at work for two, and how am I doing? Well... "raw" might be a good way to put it. I still feel like crying at any given moment. I still don't want to be here. I'm still scared for the future, and scared of what my doctor is going to tell us on November 12, and scared of what the fertility specialist is going to tell us on whatever day after that. I have lab work lined up for Thursday afternoon this week, and I'm still taking the Clomid in the meantime. I don't know what my doctor is going to want me to do based on those results, but we won't know until after we talk to him again.

I called his office yesterday to ask for details of the bloodwork I had done back in July... there was one more question in my mind. July was the first and only time that my estradiol (estrogen) level has ever been tested, and I was never told what the actual number was - only that the doc said "it was okay" to begin taking the Clomid. I had done some more reading about anastrozole, another drug, which is supposed to reduce estradiol levels in men and to help increase fertility for men whose levels are high, or normal but out of balance with their T level. It might give us one more shot before having to resort to IUI or IVF. But the nurse called back and said that my number (20.9) was smack in the middle of the normal range for estradiol in men my age. I was surprised to find myself initially disappointed at this news - it meant that anastrozole probably wouldn't help us any more than the Clomid, but I've had so few "normal" test results since all of this began, shouldn't I be thrilled to hear that this is one way at least in which my body is NOT screwed up? But given time to reflect past the knee-jerk reaction, and I'm very grateful now that those results said what they did. One of the hardest thoughts to deal with on Friday was reflecting back on the year we had just spent trying to "fix" my issues and having precious little to show for it... but if my estradiol was not high, then going with Clomid back in July WAS the right choice, even if it turned out not to have helped as we hoped. It means that we don't have to start trying a new drug and then wait ANOTHER three months before we can get on with anything else, which neither my wife or I have ANY desire to do. And it's at least one more factor in our favor, one less thing that we have to fight against, which is one less obstacle in the path that leads to where we want to be.

I kept apologizing to my wife on Friday... "I'm sorry" doesn't even begin to describe how awful I feel that issues with my body have put us where we are now. But she kept telling me, and keeps telling me, that it's not my fault, and I know she's right. There's nothing I could have done to change this, there's nothing that I did to cause this. But I kept telling her "I'm sorry" anyway, because my heart breaks for us both. I'm sorry that I can't shield her from the pain. I'm sorry that I had to call her and give her the bad news. I'm sorry that it's not something I can fix, no matter how hard I try (and I've tried every damn thing I could for a year). I'm sorry that we're in this position now, where neither of us wants to be, and I'm sorry that it's my body that has put us here, even if it is beyond my control. I'm sorry for all of the tears and the pain and the waiting over the last year, and I'm sorry for the rough times that we know are yet to come. But I love you. I will always love you. I am always here for you, and BY GOD WE WILL GET THROUGH THIS TOGETHER. And we will come out stronger, and closer, on the other side.

So... we don't know what is going to happen next. I pray that it's the least invasive, least expensive, least painful, and shortest road possible, because we're both sick as hell of this damn rollercoaster. I don't know how much this is going to cost, or how exactly we're going to afford all of it. But we will find a way. We WILL find a way. I felt broken on Friday... I still feel that way sometimes now. But I'm up off the mat, and I'm ready to fight again. I love my wife more than everyone and everything else both in this world and out of it, and we've always got each other, no matter where this road may lead. I can never thank God enough for that, and that gives me the strength to keep fighting. God, we need Your help... please give us Your help and guidance. But thank You for the blessing of this incredible woman in my life.