Seeing your wife being wheeled in to an operating theatre is not a nice experience. Knowing that 10 minutes after she’s disappeared from view you’ll be asked by a middle aged nurse to follow her to the “Masturbatorium” where she points out the wet wipes and a whole range of Paul Raymond literature doesn’t do much for your nerves either! Anyway, under a huge amount of pressure I had to produce a “sample” which any IVF dad will tell you is an experience which an small unfortunate few, will have to endure, and one I’d not wish on anyone.
But wait… it doesn’t stop there!
Failure to produce a sample will result in “Assisted Sperm Removal”. Although this sounds like an interesting route, once you understand that “Assisted Sperm Removal” involves a large needle into one of your nuts in order to extract your little swimmers, you soon blank your mind and get to work!
Lets Rewind A Bit
How did we get to this point? Well after trying to conceive naturally for approximately 18 months, we both headed to our local GP to get checked over (to a fair bit of protest by me, because I’m a man and we don’t like going to GP’s over anything).
Initially it was a relief to hear that were both producing mighty fine swimmers and eggs, but just as annoying was the fact that because there was nothing identifiable as to why we weren’t conceiving, it meant we didn’t know how to address the issue.
After months of consultation, tests and 2 failed IVF attempts (which truly test the strength of any relationship) we took a year off, relaxed, got married and then decided to try again. This time we were conscious of being healthy but not anal like the last two times. We drank the occasional drink, rode bikes, wore regular boxers and basically just lived like we normally do.
While exiting “the room”, slightly red faced, I was offered a cup off coffee while they finished collecting the eggs before going through the mechanics of the portable fridge that was to be handed over to me. Jumping in the car, plugging the fridge into the car to ensure it had power, I drove the 45 minute route to the hospital where the magic would take place.
Just one more wait entailed as they inspected my swimmers to ensure they were of good quality. If not then “Assisted Sperm Removal” was just around the corner. Happily everything was fine and so I celebrated with a sausage butty before heading back to meet Jane as she awoke from her drugs.
A little worse for wear, we got home, Jane whacked her feet up on the couch as I ran around after her for the next 24 hours. Cuppa’s, Lunch, TV remote etc..
Now we just have to wait again. Fingers, toes and eyes crossed, this time round will be successful.