A semen analysis... from a woman's perspective

Today was "the day". Analysis time!

Let me preface this by saying, I had no idea what to expect at an appointment for a semen analysis, while thinking I knew what to expect, and it was exactly as awkward as it sounds.

When we got there, we checked in, then hung around in the waiting room for a few minutes, chatting about the various things we'd done during the course of our day. The lab guy (or I'm assuming he was the lab guy... he never introduced himself) came out in full uniform to get us... lab coat, booties, face mask, paper hat... to show us to the room. We followed him back in silence (maybe guys don't like to talk while going to a semen analysis?) and he led us into this room.

For some reason, I had this picture in my head that a semen analysis room would be comfortable. Maybe not woman standard comfortable, but maybe a lovely picture on the wall (there were pictures, but they were this boring cream color), a little fragrance in the air... something.

It was not like that at all. It was a small room with a toilet, a sink, a little table to hold all the specimen cups, a black loveseat, a footstool, and a rack full of porn magazine. Oh. There was also a sign on the wall asking about testosterone usage. And a clip board and some pens.

The nameless lab coat guy ushered us in, pulled out a specimen cup, told SS to read the sheet, follow the instructions, and leave the cup and the sheet in the room when he was done and go check out. Results would be provided by the doctor at our next appointment (which sucks because that's an entire two weeks, and I'm going to explode from worry well before then). That was the extent of what he said to us. Maybe guys really do prefer not to talk to other dudes when getting ready to ejaculate into a cup said other guy is going to have to carry to the lab to be examined? I don't know, but it was awkward as hell.

SS agreed.

Which made the entire thing a lot more nerve wracking than it probably should have been, but whatever. We're on a mission to parenthood, and if a little awkward masturbation is what'll get us there (sorry, guys, no BJs allowed during a semen analysis), then awkward masturbation it is.

So he followed the instructions (which were to use the bathroom, clean up, no BJs, creams, or gels allowed, put your name on the cup, and put the lid on immediately after sample is collected), and got down to business without the porno magazines.

I'd just like to say here that I have no problems with him looking at porn if he feels inclined to do so, but I was rather relieved he didn't flip through the magazines simply because I'm a crazy germaphobe who is dying to wash my hands as soon as I finish shaking yours, and all I could think was, "OMG, how many dudes have touched their junk while flipping through these magazine?" If you're familiar with the male masturbation technique, you know that when the arm is tired, a lot of guys have learned to become switch hitters... which means they just switch to the other and continue on with business (and apparently there are others who can only use one arm... I ask a lot of questions. It's a thing.)... which means those magazines were getting a lot of play... just like in the waiting room at a doctor's office, but with more male parts and fluids involved. Which isn't really important to this recap, but I thought about this while we were in there doing the deed and it freaked me out a little to think about how much action those magazines have seen, so I figured I'd share the knowledge.

Anyway, we collected the sample (because that sounds so much less awkward, right?!), tidied up, and headed out to check out. We saw no one until we got to the desk, then the lady told us we were good to go, and we left, relieved it was over, and really hoping the little old lady on the elevator with us didn't ask us any questions (which she didn't).

Now we wait impatiently for our next appointment to find out how everything looks.

Once outside, he kissed me, we hugged, then he walked me to my car and we went back to work because we're adults, and that's what working adults do after a semen analysis (since post-specimen, public cuddling apparently hasn't become a thing yet).

I was really proud of him for not flipping out because I decided as soon as I walked into the room that there's no way in hell I'd have been able to "provide a specimen" in there. I'm a girl. We want pretty pictures and candles and creature comforts to do our thing or we're not coming out to play, so to speak. Apparently men don't need those things, or just don't want to request those things. I don't know that either.

 So... it was all kinds of awkward, and I'll never complain again about guys not needing pap smears. Okay, so that's probably a lie because at least guys don't have someone all up in their junk while they give a sample. We have cold metal stirrups, and doctors asking us questions while they examine our lady bits, and ultrasound machines, and all sorts of unpleasant crap that's way worse than masturbating into a cup in a sterile room with a toilet and a sink and used porn mags. But whatever. My point is... it was exactly what you'd expect while being nothing like you expect.

It's done now though. We're moving on to those cold metal stirrups. Yay... I think?!

xoxo,

Ayden

Maybe tomorrow

It's been a busy week around here. We took Circuit in to the vet Monday morning to get checked out, and they ended up keeping her for the day for surgery. The poor girl is six months old and was about four weeks pregnant. The vet had to take the babies because she couldn't safely carry them to term. Making that decision was heartbreaking, but it was for the best. Her uterus was abnormal and she was just too small for babies. I feel awful for her, but she's doing well. She's pissed she can't reach her stitches, but is healing wonderfully. She is otherwise a perfectly healthy little kitten. The vet was so impressed with how well behaved she is for a stray. And Ali is healing nicely as well. Still a jerk, but I've come to terms with the fact that my cat is an asshole. Always has been. Always will be. I still love them. :)


On Tuesday, I spoke with the Fertility Clinic and things are moving forward at a nice pace. We're scheduled tomorrow afternoon for SS's semen analysis. We're both nervous, but are both in that headspace where "maybe tomorrow" we'll be on the road to a treatment plan, or at least peace of mind. We really have no clue at this point where SS stands fertility wise. Knowing once and for all will be a huge relief.


We're also scheduled for a consult with Dr. Batres at the clinic on the 25th. They sent me a ton of paperwork to complete, so we spent most of last night working on it. The medical history questions made me anxious. I'm trying to remind myself that my doctor didn't tell us no even though he knows our history, but we've been shot down so many times because of the lesions and pseudotumor... it's hard not to be afraid it'll happen again when Dr. Batres reviews everything. Most of the time, I think I've come to terms with the fact that IVF is more than likely off the table for us, but sometimes I still find myself hoping that "maybe tomorrow" will be different. Maybe we won't be told no. Maybe we'll be candidates.


Maybe is a tough spot to live in!


One of the ladies in our group has seen Dr. Batres before and spoke highly of him. Apparently he has a nervous tic where he laughs at inappropriate times. My nephew Kai has a tic disorder as well, so I can relate to that. It's comforting to know what to expect with the doc's tic, because I'm pretty sure had we started talking about the miscarriage or treatment options and he laughed, I'd have been upset had I not known about the tic beforehand.


Oddly enough, the paperwork said we need to take our marriage license with us. This bothers me. The paperwork stated the clinic will work with single mothers, so I can't begin to imagine why they need a copy of our marriage certificate before seeing us. It's 2014, not 1944. While SS and I chose to make our marriage official in the eyes of the law, not all couples do and that is a perfectly acceptable choice. One that certainly shouldn't exclude them from treatment if they are ready, willing, and capable of caring for a child. Considering that most marriages end in divorce... well, making it legal doesn't guarantee a lasting relationship or solid family dynamic any more than not getting hitched does.


At any rate, I have no idea where I put our marriage license because in almost ten years, no one has ever asked for it, so I'm not real concerned about locating it at the moment. If they ask for it and can satisfactorily explain to me why they need it, we'll attempt to hunt it down. Until then, I'm not too concerned about it. We're both fully aware that a piece of paper doesn't make a marriage and blood doesn't make family. The only thing I can come up with is that they need it for insurance purposes, but SS and I have individual insurance policies through our employers (it's far cheaper this way) so that's not an issue.


We're going to keep doing the herbals until/unless instructed to do otherwise. I've noticed little changes. Hair growth is slower. Libido is up, up and away! And I feel less off-kilter. I was hoping they'd help with the headaches as well since hormonal imbalance can contribute to migraines, but no luck there yet. I've had a few vicious migraines this week. I'm hoping they're being triggered by stress and this ridiculous weather. Now is not the time for them to fly out of control again. Especially since my doctor just agreed to let me come off the meds to get pregnant!


All in all, we're making progress. It just feels like it's so slow in coming! I suck at waiting. But maybe tomorrow, we'll finally feel like those little black clouds have stopped following us around and we can breathe.


Fertility aside, I'm trying to get Ravished edited so I can send it on its way to make the query rounds while I focus on completing FLAME so I can get it to my publisher. And then I need to buckle down and finish the rewrites for Stricken so that can be sent off as well. My goal is to have all three completed this year, but I haven't made nearly as much progress as I'd hoped. My laptop flipped out and had to be replaced which slowed me down tremendously. I've got the new one up and running now, so I'm ready to dive back in and get these done!

xoxo,

Ayden

I think I love my doctor: Appointment and Ali news.

Having a doctor you trust is so important, whether you're ill, trying to conceive, or just have questions and concerns. I'm fortunate in that my PCP is amazing. He's very attentive. He spends time chatting with me. He gives me a say when deciding on treatment. And he listens.

Anytime I've gone to see him, he's let me explain what's wrong and why I think it's wrong. He's learned that, more often than not, I'm right. I knew when I dislocated my hip. I knew when we needed to adjust my meds. I knew what happened to cause a problem with my foot. And I know what the hell I'm talking about when I say that SS and I need to see the RE for infertility testing and treatment.

When he came into the room this morning, the first thing my doctor said was, "The first thing I'm going to do is order a semen analysis for your husband. 50% of the time, infertility is caused by problems with the man. It's easier and cheaper to test him first and then start testing you."

I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him soundly for not being an idiot. I knew he wouldn't be, but it was a huge relief to have him confirm what we tried to tell SS's doctor a few weeks ago. Infertility is NOT “mostly a woman’s problem”.  I’m glad my doctor knows that. I really am.

So... we chatted about the REs in the area, and he recommended one that he thinks I’ll like. He sent over the referral for the SA and wants me to set up my appointment at the same time so we can get the ball rolling.

And then we talked about all the issues we're going to be facing. Like my medications. We're definitely going to have to change or stop them altogether before I get pregnant because the risk of harm is too high for either of us to be comfortable with me continuing them while pregnant. We discussed what that’s going to mean for me, and how closely I’ll have to be monitored to make sure the neuro issues stay under control.

But he didn't tell me that, no, I can't try to get pregnant in whichever way I feel is best for me. He told me that he understands what infertility is like because his wife had eight miscarriages while they were trying to conceive, and he would never dream of telling me I can’t try when SS and I are clearly ready to be parents and aren’t going into this blind.

I wanted to cry when he said that. Every other doctor has told me no, I can't do IVF. Or no, I can't do this. Or no, I can't try that. I’ve heard a lot of No’s in the last nine years.

Today, I didn't hear a single one. He told me the decision was up to me, SS, and the RE, and that he'd support it. He'll let me come off my migraine medications while we're trying to conceive. And he'll let me and SS decide what sort of treatment we think is best. And he'll do what he can to help us.

So the plan is for us to talk with the RE to do all the testing. Once we know what we’re facing and what our treatment options are, my doctor will begin weaning me off my medication and will monitor to make sure that things are going well on that front.

He didn’t veto IVF either. He said if we decide that’s an option we want to pursue, we’ll have another talk then about what that’s going to mean for us and whether or not I can handle it safely.

As I mentioned previously, SS and I are pretty certain we don't want to do IVF. At least not at the clinic here. The success rate is simply too low and the risk is too high. But if we do decide we want to give it a try, it’s nice to know that he’s willing to discuss it further.

I went in terrified of being told no today, because that’s all we’ve been told for so long.
 
I cannot even begin to describe how much peace of mind my doctor gave me today. It feels so good to know that he trusts me to know what is best for me, and will support my choices. It feels so good to know that we weren't told no today. It feels so good to know that we're finally making progress after all these years. And it feels so good to know that my doctor is willing to advocate, not only for me, but for SS too. Even if that means telling SS's doctor what's what.

I know we haven't won the war. We aren't pregnant yet. We may not be able to get pregnant at all. But I feel like we did win a battle today. And that feels pretty freaking awesome.

So does the fact that I'm about 95% certain that I've ovulated this cycle! :)

And for those wondering… Ali went to the vet today. He fixed up Ali's war wounds, but the vet is concerned he may have an immune disorder because he gets such bad infections so fast. This is the second time since November that he’s been fine one day, and had a blood infection the next. Despite having a very obvious infection, his temp was about 5 degrees below normal, which isn't a great thing. So, he gave him two big shots today and is going to do some tests on him when he’s sedated for surgery on the 24^th. He wanted to do some testing today, but Ali wasn't having it. Vet just decided to wait until the 24th instead of sedating him today too. I’m worried about the poor guy. I say he’s a jerk (because he is), but he’s my little jerk, and I love him. I am praying the vet is concerned over nothing and he’s just fine. But until we know for sure… I will worry.

xoxo,
Ayden

I did the "girl" thing today.

I've had an interesting night. But before I get to that, you're going to need a little back story.

SS and I are huge animal lovers, and neither of us can stand to see an animal suffering. So we've rescued more than a few animals during our relationship. We have a twelve year old terrier, Boo, who we adopted from my grandma when Boo decided her shoes were great chew toys.

Six years ago, Boo had a litter of one. No one even knew she was pregnant. We found her hiding in the closet one day, and lo and behold, there was this tiny little puppy. I couldn't imagine taking her baby away from her, so we decided to keep the puppy. Her name is Razi. She's part terrier, part Chihuahua, and is just this tiny little ball of fur.

Boo thinks she's the boss. No one tells her what to do. As she's gotten older, she's only gotten bossier. She's starting to go blind now, so she's pretty anal about things. No one is allowed to touch her stuff or go into her corner. No one is allowed to eat her food. Or do anything she doesn't want them to do without her flipping out. She's like a little old lady with a shotgun. Anyone goes near her stuff, she's coming out in rollers, shotgun in hand, and isn't asking questions.

Two years ago, we rescued a little kitten who was living outside my sister's house. SS never owned a cat before, and was adamant we weren't getting one, but quickly changed his mind when my sweet little nephew, Losh, mastered his fear of touching animals to pet the kitten. Ali came home with us that night. We thought Ali was a girl, so we gave him a girl name, only to find out that he wasn't a girl.

Ali is... well, Ali is a jerk. I love him to death, but he really is a jerk. He was supposed to be my cat, but he likes SS better than me because I won't let him do crap he thinks he's entitled to do... like whore around the neighborhood. Everyone says cats aren't really vindictive, but they haven't met Ali. If I won't let him go outside when he wants, he will try to pee in my sink or on me. If I try to move him out of my way, he'll bite me. Or randomly run across the floor to slap me. He loves to wait until about 2am, then stick his paws under my bedroom door and shake the ever living crap out of it.

Because he's a jerk, him and Boo don't get along. She doesn't have time for all of that. He's learned to stay away from her crap.

Last May, my sister rescued a Border Collie from the side of the road. He was sickly and so sweet... she'd just adopted a dog from the pound, and SS and I were looking for a big dog, so we decided to take him. The plan was for him to be SS's dog, but for me to feel a little safer by myself when SS isn't home. Well, Odin and I instantly clicked. He's "my" dog, and he takes that very seriously. If he doesn't like you, you aren't getting close to me. If he doesn't think I like you, you definitely aren't getting close to me. He's also a monumental baby. And I do mean that. He loves to try to cuddle up in my lap as if he doesn't weigh 65 pounds. He sleeps right beside me. He gives hugs all day long. He also flips out if I'm out of his sight for more than a minute or two. I've come to terms with the fact that the dog is going to go to the bathroom with me whether I want him to or not. I gave up trying to shoo him out a few months after we got him and have taught him the word "privacy" which in guard dog speak apparently means "If I can't see her, she can't see me, so I'mma turn around and lay right here in the doorway." Yeah... we're still working on it.

He gets bent out of shape if he loves you and you don't love him. So him and Boo have issues. But him and Ali are best buddies. And he and Razi are pretty cool too, unless he's pissed Boo off, at which point Razi flips out too. This has been the dynamic in our house since last May. We have Odin the big, goofy loveable dog. We have the jerky cat. We have Boo the cranky old lady. And we have Razi, who just doesn't give a shit unless you mess with her mama.

Well, a few weeks ago, a beautiful kitten appeared outside, shivering and hungry and miserable. It was freezing cold out, so I tried to lure her to me. SS opened the door and she bolted when the dogs came barreling out. Anyway, when she came back the next evening, SS told me she was out there, so I went out, determined to capture her. It took me about 10 minutes, before she finally came to me and let me pick her up. Obviously not feral, but she'd definitely been living on the streets for a while. We brought her in. I intended to feed her and keep her only until it warmed up outside. She was inside a whole five minutes before SS decided we were going to keep her. He named her Circuit.

Well, Boo doesn't like Circuit. Odin and Razi want to play with Circuit, and get upset when she won't play with them. Ali likes Circuit half the time, and the other half, he wants to fight her. Circuit doesn't like any of them at this point. She's getting better with the dogs, which Razi and Odin have taken to mean she wants to love them... and then they both get all upset when they realize she doesn't actually love them yet. So when she hisses, they bark, which sets Boo off. It's madness.

A few days ago, Circuit and Ali got into a fight. They were perfectly fine, cuddled up in a chair together, and then all hell broke loose. Circuit sank her teeth into Ali. Ali dragged her across the floor by her collar. Fur was flying! We promptly decided to keep them separated until Ali gets neutered later this month. So, we keep her in the house during the day and let him relax in the sun room. Then at night, she sleeps in the bedroom with SS (yes, we have our own bedrooms... and yes, we're still happily married), and we let Ali run wild in the rest of the house. We've been keeping Ali's battle wound clean. It looked fine until tonight. I went to pick him up and noticed blood on the side of his face. The wound is infected and looks pretty gnarly. So, we cleaned him up and I have to run him to the vet tomorrow for another antibiotic shot to match the one he had in November after he got out and got in a fight with something... which is why he's getting his boys nipped this month. He's never sprayed, but he thinks he's a gang banger and has recently decided that means fighting any and everything.

Anyway, the point of this incredibly long story is that, I have an appointment tomorrow morning with my doctor to discuss our infertility woes and I'm nervous. I'm praying he gives us the green light, and I'm also scared he won't because of the brain lesion and because that'll mean changing my neuro medications and we just got the migraines under control again. After everything we've been through, I really just want good news tomorrow, and I'm afraid that won't happen.

So, of course, when I saw Ali's wound had become infected, I freaked out because I'm a girl and that's what we do. We freak out about things that aren't even related because in our minds, those unrelated things are irrefutable proof that we're going to be terrible mothers. Why? Because that's what girls do.

I literally did the whole my baby is hurt, and I feel like a terrible mama because of it. And how are we supposed to be good parents if we can't even keep our cat healthy? And how do I plan to keep the cats away from a baby if I can't even keep the cats from killing each other for a couple of weeks? And I'm sure by the time I finished having a freaking cow, SS was ready to strangle me. But he didn't. Because he knows how convoluted things become in my mind when I'm stressed out.

The really funny thing about all of this is that if anyone can handle a crisis... I can. While everyone else is panicking, I'm the one swooping in to save the day, whether it's getting my sister to the hospital when she went into labor at 25 weeks, or changing my nephew's trach on the side of the highway while the cop stands by to keep us from being run over, or someone is bleeding profusely or whatever... I have it all under control. But let me think too long, and I will have destroyed an entire kingdom with a simple broken shoe in my head in about 2.5 seconds. Because that's what I do. I worry and stress and think about every possible thing that could go wrong. Especially when it matters. And tomorrow matters, so I had a meltdown tonight over something completely unrelated. Stupid, I know. And I'm sure SS agrees. But he didn't say anything.

He just let me have my little freak out, like he always does. Because he knows me. And he knows that, as soon as I'm done with my little panic attack, I'm going to suck it up and do what needs to be done to get us from Point A to Point B. And I'm going to throw myself into it with my whole heart, because that's also who I am. I don't do things halfway. I put everything into it, and I worry and stress and want everything to be perfect because it's important to me.

Because I've been a mama for as long as I can remember, even if I don't have kids of my own. I take care of people and animals and things and I'm damn good at it.

And that made me realize how lucky I am to have SS. Because while I'm taking care of everyone else, he's taking care of me. He may be messy and sleep through his alarm every morning. Or forget to get the one thing I sent him to the store for every time he goes... but he never tells me I'm being a crazy person even when I'm obviously being a crazy person. He's patient and kind and calm and he knows what I need before I know what I need. I can put my whole heart into things because I know he's going to be there to catch me if  I fall or fail. And that's why I know he's going to be such an amazing father. Just like he is an uncle. And a husband. And a friend. Because he's just that incredible kind of guy.

I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow. I'm still nervous. I'm still worried. I still want to throw up. I will feel that way until all is said and done. Because that's who I am. But I'm not freaking out anymore. I have SS to thank for that. 

xoxo,

Ayden