Of course. Of course NOW is when work decides to implement a policy requiring all employees to be here from 8:00am sharp to at least 5:00pm sharp, under threat of penalty if you don't comply, further cutting into my already minimal sleep schedule and forcing my morning commute into the busiest (and riskiest) possible window. Of course they'll add this on top of asking me to work one full-time position while spending at least 25% of my time training another full-time employee. On top of implementing a new work tracking system that EVERYONE, EVERYONE, EVERYONE who is not a manager HATES. I already documented all of my crap; it's not my fault that no one else did! Now the "documenting" many times takes longer than the work itself, and what used to be a 5-15 minute job now regularly takes at least a week and a half, and oh, by the way, you'll be asked to work evenings or weekends almost every week too so that you can complete that 5-minute task when no one is using the system, BUT NO ONE WOULD CARE AND NOTHING WOULD BREAK IF YOU DID IT DURING YOUR 8:00-5:00 IMPRISONMENT ANYWAY. My users loved me because of my quick turnaround time on resolving issues, but now you're making me and the rest of the department look WORSE because you have to wait a week and a half to get a FUCKING FIVE MINUTE TASK DONE.
Of course work would dump all of that crap on my head NOW, when I'm only trying to deal with having just come as close as we've ever come to FINALLY becoming parents, and we even actually had two eggs fertilized, so technically we already are parents. But neither of our tiny babies survived. We were forced to say goodbye before we ever got the chance to say hello, and so we're mourning the hardest loss of our lives. And not only that, we're faced with the very real fear that we've already come as close to being parents as we'll ever get, so not only do we mourn the loss of our babies, we mourn the lifelong dream of parenthood that's at strong risk of dying soon too. Of course this would happen right when two other friends are announcing their happy first pregnancies, and right when the whole world decides to go insane over a #RoyalBaby that NO ONE FUCKING CARES ABOUT. SO SHUT THE FUCK UP.
God, I feel betrayed. I feel that You led us on, only to betray us. Like we're the victims of some cruel cosmic joke, and You don't care how much it hurts. I'm not turning my back on You, but I'm having an awfully hard time trusting You now, and I sure as hell don't understand the point and purpose of all of this crap. Why the FUCK, God? Why the FUCK, God? Why the FUCK, God, did our babies have to die? And how the FUCK is it better, and good, and right, that You should slam the door in our faces when we prayed for our baby's life, so that now we're crushed under this emotional weight that "heartbreak" doesn't even begin to cover. I'm not turning my back on You, but I sure as hell hate You every time my wife breaks down in tears again. You gave her to me, and I've done EVERYTHING I could, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY to try and take care of her the best that I could, only to have YOU crush her in a way that I can't help with at all, that I can't do ANYTHING to even begin to make better, and it seems that every time I try, I only end up making things worse still. You have brought to reality all of my worst fears, every single FUCKING thing that I prayed to avoid, and all for what? For what? So that You could take our babies away from us? How is that better than this? How is that good for us? How is that right? Why the hell did You answer one prayer to keep our baby alive, only to make it hurt that much more when You took them away 10 days later?
I don't understand, God, and I'm struggling with this harder than anything else I ever have. And I've got a hell of a family history including divorce, adultery, neglect, abuse, attempted rape/murder, and death, so that's saying one hell of a lot. This is the hardest thing that I've ever done, and it's even harder on my wife, and I just wish I knew what to do. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where we're going. The one thing I'm sure of is that I love my wife with every whit of my being, and nothing will ever, EVER change that. But that doesn't fix anything. That doesn't even make any of it easier. I miss our babies, and I FUCKING HATE THIS FUCKING DISEASE, and I always vowed to defend my wife from anyone that would even try to hurt her. I never expected it to be You, God.
I'm exhausted. I'm mourning. I'm terrified of the finality of trying and failing again, but the alternative is to give up and resign ourselves to staying in this place. So we can either stay here, or we can try to escape and end up back here again anyway. It's a hell of a choice, but any chance is better than no chance at all. I'm just terrified that it won't work, and that we will end up stuck in this place again. God, that's the one thing that keeps me clinging to You right now. I know that it's all still ultimately in Your hands. You can still get us out of this, and I hope that You do. I'm just terrified that You won't.
I wish I knew why we're here... though really, even knowing why wouldn't change where we are, so I'm not sure that knowing would do much good anyway. I really wish I knew where to go from here. But all that I can do is keep walking and pray that our faith is not in vain. That Your promises ARE real, and true. That You do have something better in store for us, but I sure as hell can't see it now. Just keep doing what I've always done with my wife, and that is to love her with every whit of my being, every day, in every way that I can.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
Dear Baby Adam
Dear Baby Adam,
I love you. I want that to be the first thing that you know, the one thing that you always know, even if one day it feels like all the world is crashing down around you - your Daddy loves you, with all of his heart. Your Mommy loves you, too - and we don't even know you yet! But we do love you. We can't wait to meet you. We've already been waiting for so long, it seems... but for someone as special as you, I know you'll be worth the wait.
It's been a hard road leading here, for your Mommy and I... obstacles popping up at every turn. Even now the obstacles seem determined to keep us away from you. But I'm determined not to let them. You are loved, little man, and don't you ever doubt it. Your Mommy and I will face the fires of Hell, if that's what it takes, for us to one day hold you in our arms. Never once doubt that you are wanted, and you are loved; even when it seems that everyone is against you, you are only ever loved here, no matter what.
It's easy to get lost in the struggles we've been facing, ever since we decided we were ready for you, and understandably so - all of this would cut the legs from under any person. But I realize now that it's not about us - your Mommy and I - and it's not about what we want. All of this is about you. We want to give you a chance; we want to show you the world. It's a big, scary world out there, but there is plenty of good, too, and this world needs more good people in it. And you know what? You're going to make this world a better place for you having lived in it. I'm proud of you, son. I have confidence in you. I know you're going to be a great man, and you're going to do great things, and I'm going to be standing right behind you, cheering you on every step of the way.
There was a long time when I didn't think that I would ever be a daddy; I doubted that I was lovable myself, and I didn't think that anyone would ever give me a chance. But I think that I've been getting ready for you all along. I sang the lullabies in high school that my grandmom had sung for me when I was little, and I imagined one day singing them for my own child. I wrote a poem for you in college (though it wasn't very good), and I sang for you more then. I've never met my father, and it wasn't until after college that I truly knew what that meant, but you will never, ever have to walk through this life alone. You will never doubt that you are loved, because I'm your Daddy, and I love you right now before I've ever even seen your face.
I hope you like music; I already know I'm going to be singing for you all the time. I promise I'll try to keep up with the current bands as you grow older, so that I can be one of those "cool" dads who "gets it" - even though I know you'll end up embarrassed by me eventually anyway. I hope you like baseball, so that I can take you to games as my mom did with me. I'll teach you about the stupid infield fly rule, and buy you hot dogs and nachos, and even if you don't like the Astros (my team) or the Braves (your mom's), I'll support your team of choice and cheer them to victory every day so I can see you happy. Or I hope you like animals, or Disney movies, or any of 1000 other things that I like, so that we can share those joys together. But you know what? Even if you don't, that's all okay too. I'll teach you to like some things, but you'll teach me to like others, and we'll have fun anyway.
I can't wait for you to meet your Mommy - she is still the most incredible woman that I have ever met. She makes me a better man, and I know that she'll raise incredible kids; I really am the luckiest man in the world to have her as my wife, and you'll be the luckiest kid to get to have her as your mom. She can teach you all about art and creating things - stuff that every kid loves to do. She's a great storyteller, and she'll take you to fantastical worlds on incredible journeys that will make your imagination soar. Just as I will, she will always make sure that you know how loved you are, and she'll teach you a passion for life that makes me smile and fall deeper in love with her every day that I get to spend by her side. It's because of her that I can't wait to meet you, because I know you'll be a little piece of her.
I love your Mommy with all of my heart, but there's room enough in my heart to love you with all of it too. That's why we want to meet you so badly - we've got all of this love to give. But this is about you, and we're doing this for you. Your Mommy's story and mine are intertwined; we're written together in a beautiful symphony, and we want to add your part. One day you will grow up, and you will move away, and your Mommy and I will go on together; our symphony will be that much more beautiful for having had you in it. But I can't wait for you to unleash your own symphony on the world. I know that it's going to be great.
Of course, you may be born Baby Anna (or whatever we decide to name you) instead of Baby Adam, but that's fine too. If you want me to dress up in the pointy purple princess hat with the silver star-spangled lace, then bring it on, baby girl - I'm man enough for fairy tales and unicorns. We'll still have daddy/daughter days, and no little girl will ever have been loved more. I've already tried to set that standard with your Mommy; of course that love will overflow to you, too.
Your Daddy loves you. Your Mommy loves you. We're going to fight for you, and we want you to fight for us, too. Let us give you a chance at life, and we'll take the world by storm. We'll be waiting here.
Love,
Daddy
I love you. I want that to be the first thing that you know, the one thing that you always know, even if one day it feels like all the world is crashing down around you - your Daddy loves you, with all of his heart. Your Mommy loves you, too - and we don't even know you yet! But we do love you. We can't wait to meet you. We've already been waiting for so long, it seems... but for someone as special as you, I know you'll be worth the wait.
It's been a hard road leading here, for your Mommy and I... obstacles popping up at every turn. Even now the obstacles seem determined to keep us away from you. But I'm determined not to let them. You are loved, little man, and don't you ever doubt it. Your Mommy and I will face the fires of Hell, if that's what it takes, for us to one day hold you in our arms. Never once doubt that you are wanted, and you are loved; even when it seems that everyone is against you, you are only ever loved here, no matter what.
It's easy to get lost in the struggles we've been facing, ever since we decided we were ready for you, and understandably so - all of this would cut the legs from under any person. But I realize now that it's not about us - your Mommy and I - and it's not about what we want. All of this is about you. We want to give you a chance; we want to show you the world. It's a big, scary world out there, but there is plenty of good, too, and this world needs more good people in it. And you know what? You're going to make this world a better place for you having lived in it. I'm proud of you, son. I have confidence in you. I know you're going to be a great man, and you're going to do great things, and I'm going to be standing right behind you, cheering you on every step of the way.
There was a long time when I didn't think that I would ever be a daddy; I doubted that I was lovable myself, and I didn't think that anyone would ever give me a chance. But I think that I've been getting ready for you all along. I sang the lullabies in high school that my grandmom had sung for me when I was little, and I imagined one day singing them for my own child. I wrote a poem for you in college (though it wasn't very good), and I sang for you more then. I've never met my father, and it wasn't until after college that I truly knew what that meant, but you will never, ever have to walk through this life alone. You will never doubt that you are loved, because I'm your Daddy, and I love you right now before I've ever even seen your face.
I hope you like music; I already know I'm going to be singing for you all the time. I promise I'll try to keep up with the current bands as you grow older, so that I can be one of those "cool" dads who "gets it" - even though I know you'll end up embarrassed by me eventually anyway. I hope you like baseball, so that I can take you to games as my mom did with me. I'll teach you about the stupid infield fly rule, and buy you hot dogs and nachos, and even if you don't like the Astros (my team) or the Braves (your mom's), I'll support your team of choice and cheer them to victory every day so I can see you happy. Or I hope you like animals, or Disney movies, or any of 1000 other things that I like, so that we can share those joys together. But you know what? Even if you don't, that's all okay too. I'll teach you to like some things, but you'll teach me to like others, and we'll have fun anyway.
I can't wait for you to meet your Mommy - she is still the most incredible woman that I have ever met. She makes me a better man, and I know that she'll raise incredible kids; I really am the luckiest man in the world to have her as my wife, and you'll be the luckiest kid to get to have her as your mom. She can teach you all about art and creating things - stuff that every kid loves to do. She's a great storyteller, and she'll take you to fantastical worlds on incredible journeys that will make your imagination soar. Just as I will, she will always make sure that you know how loved you are, and she'll teach you a passion for life that makes me smile and fall deeper in love with her every day that I get to spend by her side. It's because of her that I can't wait to meet you, because I know you'll be a little piece of her.
I love your Mommy with all of my heart, but there's room enough in my heart to love you with all of it too. That's why we want to meet you so badly - we've got all of this love to give. But this is about you, and we're doing this for you. Your Mommy's story and mine are intertwined; we're written together in a beautiful symphony, and we want to add your part. One day you will grow up, and you will move away, and your Mommy and I will go on together; our symphony will be that much more beautiful for having had you in it. But I can't wait for you to unleash your own symphony on the world. I know that it's going to be great.
Of course, you may be born Baby Anna (or whatever we decide to name you) instead of Baby Adam, but that's fine too. If you want me to dress up in the pointy purple princess hat with the silver star-spangled lace, then bring it on, baby girl - I'm man enough for fairy tales and unicorns. We'll still have daddy/daughter days, and no little girl will ever have been loved more. I've already tried to set that standard with your Mommy; of course that love will overflow to you, too.
Your Daddy loves you. Your Mommy loves you. We're going to fight for you, and we want you to fight for us, too. Let us give you a chance at life, and we'll take the world by storm. We'll be waiting here.
Love,
Daddy
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Holding out hope for hope
I. HATE. This fucking disease. I am so SICK of this goddamn fucking disease. Or disorder. Or deficiency, or defect, or whatever you want to call it. SICK of it. NOT giving up the fight - NO - but... damn. Every time you think you've seen the worst that it can throw at you, every time you think you've finally knocked it down to the mat - here it comes again, with another gut punch you didn't think it had left to give you.
Semen analysis #6 last week, to test the results of the HCG injections that I've been on since November. After a 9 million count at SA #4 in June, the Clomid-affected SA #5 dropped to 1.5 million, so we quit the Clomid and started HCG (Pregnyl) in hopes of bouncing back up to 9 million and beyond. Not so. I was afraid to let myself hope that the results would even be as good as 9 million again, though I knew there was a chance they could be significantly better. I was scared of the possibility that the count could be down to nothing at all, though I told myself that was unlikely, that we had no reason to believe that would be the case. I rationalized that neither extreme was very likely, so expect something somewhere in the middle, and then you won't be surprised when that's exactly what happens. Ha. Hahahaha. I guess the results weren't truly at either extreme, so I had that right, but they're damn near close to the bad one.
I am so. FUCKING. Sick. Of my body betraying me at every turn. You think you're getting better? HA, shut the fuck up. Surgery, even if it only helps fertility in 30-50% of cases, should at least eliminate pain 90% of the time. Guess what? You're in the 10% that made it worse. Clomid, most guys respond well to it, many with really dramatically improved results. Guess what? Let's CUT your sperm count by 75%. HCG! You're an ideal candidate, lots of guys in your situation respond well to this even when Clomid doesn't work. Give it a go! Guess what? You've been taking consolation all along this road - however minuscule that consolation may be - that while you're infertile, at least you're not sterile. Well, guess what? HAHAHAHAHA you damn near might as well be now! Take that, you bastard. And stay down this time.
So now we know our next step HAS to be IVF. So now I get a second helping of guilt for putting my wife through all of that physical strain, on top of the emotional strain that she's already been besieged by, all thanks to MY. GODDAMN. FUCKING. BODY. But wait, there's more! On top of your own physical and emotional strain, on top of that guilt upon guilt, on top of the weariness from fighting this battle now for nearing three years - let's add an assload of worry! We'll be seeing our fertility doc again next Friday the 5th, and I'll probably get to do SA #7 while I'm there then. (Joy.) I'm thinking, Hoping, PRAYING that the piss poor results we just got were a fluke, so that even if our doctor doesn't want another SA for his purposes, I want another one now with better results for my own peace of mind. I want to PROVE that it was a fluke. Because, if it wasn't, what if then we do proceed with IVF, we get to the day when fertilization is supposed to happen, and my body decides, oh, hey, let's just not make any sperm today, okay guys? Yeah, fuck me.
I want to know what the HELL is going on with my body. Did I do something wrong? Did I do something before or during the SA to result in such terrible numbers? If I did and it was a fluke, then thank God, but apparently that means that my body is so slow to recover the numbers it needs that I get to schedule ALL of my orgasms from now on to give us the maximum possible chance of having good numbers when we need them. Ain't that fun? And on top of the worry about how this latest twist might affect our chances with IVF, I've got the worry now that something ELSE, something worse than "just" infertility might be wrong. The urologist did warn us when I started on the Clomid that it has the chance of shutting down your sperm production entirely. That was a scary statement, but he said that it was a very small chance, and that even he, as a fellow male, would take that chance were he in my position. So I felt confident (enough) going forward with that decision, and now I wonder - did I win the "this only happens in 2% of cases!" lottery again? I don't honestly think that's it... I would have thought that quitting the Clomid would have stopped any trouble it caused. But I don't know. I don't know how these things work. I have no idea if the HCG injections have the potential to cause similar bad results, either. So... I don't know.
And if it's not the Clomid... if it's not the Clomid, or the HCG, you know what else can cause a drop in sperm count? Hello, Lance Armstrong and yellow wristbands. You know what age group comprises more than 90% of all cases of testicular cancer? 15-45. You know what the highest risk group in that spread is? 25-35. Guess how old I am right now? And you know what race is five times more likely to get this cancer than any other? Guess what race I am. The surgery I had increases that risk, too. And did you know that men with low sperm count before testicular cancer are TWENTY TIMES more likely to develop that cancer than guys with normal numbers? Well, guess what. Lucky me. Maybe this time my uncanny knack for ending up in the vast minority of cases will be a GOOD thing, and that's one bullet we'll dodge no matter how "good" the odds are in my favor.
Heh, irony... so if there's anything in this latest bad news that I can take consolation in, at least there's this: that this was NOT the worst SA result I've had yet. Back at SA #2, the one just before my surgery, they found ONE active sperm. One. At the count prior to that, they found 4.25 million, and I always had somewhere between 1-9 million at every subsequent SA since then, until now. So we've seen a fluke terrible number before, and my body seemed to recover from it just fine. At least this result was six times better than that one (woo)... and if they only found 10 sperm but 6 were moving, then hey, that's 60% motility! Take comfort in the little things, I guess...
So yes, hoping that this bad result was a fluke... and I (very cautiously) believe we have reason to believe that it was. I want answers from our doc next week as to what is going on that could cause this, so that I can end my uninformed speculation, and I want another result of at least 1 million to put my mind at peace that I'm not barren. If I am, there is even then still hope of IVF, but then they'll have to get the sperm by testicular aspiration (TESE), so... guess what? Let's make your ball that doesn't hurt, start hurting! Or, let's make your ball that still hurts, hurt even worse! I'd rather not, thanks. But if that's what it takes... so be it. I've been all in so far. I'm still all in now. I look EAGERLY forward to the day when terms like "semen analysis," "motility," "morphology," "in-vitro," "ovulation" and the rest are no longer anywhere to be found in our regular vocabulary. Still praying. Still fighting. One step at a time.
Semen analysis #6 last week, to test the results of the HCG injections that I've been on since November. After a 9 million count at SA #4 in June, the Clomid-affected SA #5 dropped to 1.5 million, so we quit the Clomid and started HCG (Pregnyl) in hopes of bouncing back up to 9 million and beyond. Not so. I was afraid to let myself hope that the results would even be as good as 9 million again, though I knew there was a chance they could be significantly better. I was scared of the possibility that the count could be down to nothing at all, though I told myself that was unlikely, that we had no reason to believe that would be the case. I rationalized that neither extreme was very likely, so expect something somewhere in the middle, and then you won't be surprised when that's exactly what happens. Ha. Hahahaha. I guess the results weren't truly at either extreme, so I had that right, but they're damn near close to the bad one.
I am so. FUCKING. Sick. Of my body betraying me at every turn. You think you're getting better? HA, shut the fuck up. Surgery, even if it only helps fertility in 30-50% of cases, should at least eliminate pain 90% of the time. Guess what? You're in the 10% that made it worse. Clomid, most guys respond well to it, many with really dramatically improved results. Guess what? Let's CUT your sperm count by 75%. HCG! You're an ideal candidate, lots of guys in your situation respond well to this even when Clomid doesn't work. Give it a go! Guess what? You've been taking consolation all along this road - however minuscule that consolation may be - that while you're infertile, at least you're not sterile. Well, guess what? HAHAHAHAHA you damn near might as well be now! Take that, you bastard. And stay down this time.
So now we know our next step HAS to be IVF. So now I get a second helping of guilt for putting my wife through all of that physical strain, on top of the emotional strain that she's already been besieged by, all thanks to MY. GODDAMN. FUCKING. BODY. But wait, there's more! On top of your own physical and emotional strain, on top of that guilt upon guilt, on top of the weariness from fighting this battle now for nearing three years - let's add an assload of worry! We'll be seeing our fertility doc again next Friday the 5th, and I'll probably get to do SA #7 while I'm there then. (Joy.) I'm thinking, Hoping, PRAYING that the piss poor results we just got were a fluke, so that even if our doctor doesn't want another SA for his purposes, I want another one now with better results for my own peace of mind. I want to PROVE that it was a fluke. Because, if it wasn't, what if then we do proceed with IVF, we get to the day when fertilization is supposed to happen, and my body decides, oh, hey, let's just not make any sperm today, okay guys? Yeah, fuck me.
I want to know what the HELL is going on with my body. Did I do something wrong? Did I do something before or during the SA to result in such terrible numbers? If I did and it was a fluke, then thank God, but apparently that means that my body is so slow to recover the numbers it needs that I get to schedule ALL of my orgasms from now on to give us the maximum possible chance of having good numbers when we need them. Ain't that fun? And on top of the worry about how this latest twist might affect our chances with IVF, I've got the worry now that something ELSE, something worse than "just" infertility might be wrong. The urologist did warn us when I started on the Clomid that it has the chance of shutting down your sperm production entirely. That was a scary statement, but he said that it was a very small chance, and that even he, as a fellow male, would take that chance were he in my position. So I felt confident (enough) going forward with that decision, and now I wonder - did I win the "this only happens in 2% of cases!" lottery again? I don't honestly think that's it... I would have thought that quitting the Clomid would have stopped any trouble it caused. But I don't know. I don't know how these things work. I have no idea if the HCG injections have the potential to cause similar bad results, either. So... I don't know.
And if it's not the Clomid... if it's not the Clomid, or the HCG, you know what else can cause a drop in sperm count? Hello, Lance Armstrong and yellow wristbands. You know what age group comprises more than 90% of all cases of testicular cancer? 15-45. You know what the highest risk group in that spread is? 25-35. Guess how old I am right now? And you know what race is five times more likely to get this cancer than any other? Guess what race I am. The surgery I had increases that risk, too. And did you know that men with low sperm count before testicular cancer are TWENTY TIMES more likely to develop that cancer than guys with normal numbers? Well, guess what. Lucky me. Maybe this time my uncanny knack for ending up in the vast minority of cases will be a GOOD thing, and that's one bullet we'll dodge no matter how "good" the odds are in my favor.
Heh, irony... so if there's anything in this latest bad news that I can take consolation in, at least there's this: that this was NOT the worst SA result I've had yet. Back at SA #2, the one just before my surgery, they found ONE active sperm. One. At the count prior to that, they found 4.25 million, and I always had somewhere between 1-9 million at every subsequent SA since then, until now. So we've seen a fluke terrible number before, and my body seemed to recover from it just fine. At least this result was six times better than that one (woo)... and if they only found 10 sperm but 6 were moving, then hey, that's 60% motility! Take comfort in the little things, I guess...
So yes, hoping that this bad result was a fluke... and I (very cautiously) believe we have reason to believe that it was. I want answers from our doc next week as to what is going on that could cause this, so that I can end my uninformed speculation, and I want another result of at least 1 million to put my mind at peace that I'm not barren. If I am, there is even then still hope of IVF, but then they'll have to get the sperm by testicular aspiration (TESE), so... guess what? Let's make your ball that doesn't hurt, start hurting! Or, let's make your ball that still hurts, hurt even worse! I'd rather not, thanks. But if that's what it takes... so be it. I've been all in so far. I'm still all in now. I look EAGERLY forward to the day when terms like "semen analysis," "motility," "morphology," "in-vitro," "ovulation" and the rest are no longer anywhere to be found in our regular vocabulary. Still praying. Still fighting. One step at a time.
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