About 6 years ago I was diagnosed with azoospermia. About 38 years ago, I developed a very strong desire for biological offspring.
I have not fully dealt with these opposing situations. So, now I’m going to attempt to deal with it by writing, and experiencing all the emotions that will come up.
I was originally going to do a different post tonight, and then I thought I was too tired to post at all, and now I’m feeling I really need to do this one. So… here goes.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted children. This feeling was nearly equal to wanting to be me. In fact, it was largely what made it possible to bear being hidden for so long. If I was to father children biologically, I kind of needed to be what my physical body was. And then, after procreation, I’d need to be a Dad. Because how could I be a mother to them? And besides, my Dad was a big influence on me, and I wanted to be that for my children.
A year after our marriage, we stopped all forms of birth control, and started trying for children. At first, we just tried as often as we could, without paying attention to cycles and such. As time went on, we started trying at all the times that were supposed to be best. Months went on with no pregnancy. Perhaps, something was amiss, we started to think.
After about 7 or 8 months, we decided to get checked out for fertility issues. We decided that I would go first for the testing since it was supposed to be less invasive, and Teresa would just have an ultrasound for now. So, thus began my long series of nearly humiliating samples.
To be blunt about it, I have small testicles. This is great for those that like to tuck their privates away when wearing skirts and tight dresses. However, not so great, if you want testicles that produce offspring apparently. My sample sizes were small, I was even asked once if I didn’t get it all in the cup. If you are in nursing, do not ask a patient this. It is demoralizing.
Every sample came back the same, zero sperm. Not one little swimmer. Not a dead one. Not a slow one. None. I remember Teresa phoning me with the news of the first result, she had seen the lab report. I was at work, at a cursed work site (the developer went bankrupt owing our company, $111,000). I stumbled through the rest of the day successfully holding back my tears. James was pretty strong.
This was all on me. I was the reason we were not achieving pregnancy. As an aside, Teresa has never been fully tested, and keeps telling me, she may very well have problems as well (current findings are at least a little indicative of this). She keeps telling me this so I don’t blame myself, and it works to a large extent. I was in shock, and quickly that turned to being numb. We were recommended to a fertility clinic to see if they could do anything for us. There were procedures to try for those with azoospermia. I hate that word.
The doctor at the clinic was very nice, I remember. I liked him. He had a genuine sense of empathy and sympathy for us. We talked about several options, but it came down to micro TESE. MICROsurgical TEsticular Sperm Extraction. First, they would try a biopsy but it would lead to the surgery, all at the same time. If the biopsy was empty, they’d make a small incision in the scrotum and slice open a testicle (we decided to choose the largest of the two – I still kind of regret not just trying both at the time but I don’t think it would have mattered). Once the testicle was sliced open, they’d take a tissue sample from the inner parts where sperm is supposed to be generated.
I remember being on the gurney, as the IV sedation kicked in (that was the most pleasant part of the whole infertility thing). I woke up some hours later, and we were told it didn’t look good with what he could see in the operating room. They would still run the sample through the lab to see if they could find even 1 sperm.
Teresa took us to the grocery store where we bought a big bag of frozen peas – the recommended recovery enhancer. And I went home for the few days of bedrest I’d need, while holding frozen peas on my crotch. We found out the next day.
They found nothing.
To say I was devastated is an understatement. As overjoyed as I was when I finally broke free from James’ protection is the polar opposite of what I felt at hearing the news that they found nothing. My world shrunk until there was just James. I was buried under a mountain of emotions that James chose not to feel. He was striving to reach numbness. Shovel after shovel of dirt-like feelings piled on top of me. I was completely forgotten at this point. Wanting children was forgotten. There was just James, and the other one he protected, Teresa.
If I did not have Teresa, I can’t even think of what I would have become. Her strength through this, looking back, was awe inspiring. She was grieving, trying to console me, trying to keep everything together. There was no consoling me though, there were no emotions to help me get over. They were gone.
We fought a few times going through this. She could not understand how I could be over it so soon. James lied and said I’d just grieved and moved on. There’s been a lot of loss and death in my life. Guess it wasn’t that big of a lie, because that’s how James dealt with loss. Put it away, don’t think about it. I just remembered that I actually (or James rather) saw Teresa’s therapist at the time about the whole issue. It was a session Teresa was at with me. I didn’t make it anywhere near the surface to actually help anything at the time.
I am not over it. Even writing this, I’m not fully processing what I’m feeling because I want to get it all down before I go cry with my Charlie bear (Love you Teresa!).
Teresa was having a hard time (and still does, and I’m sure I will again now too) when anyone asks us, “any kids?” Then invariably, “why not?” Then, “what about adoption?” or, “just relax, it’ll happen.” or, “trust in God.” These are all VERY hurtful. We know they are not meant to be, but that changes nothing.
My desire has always been for biological offspring. I don’t know why that is, but it IS. In my mind, there is too much doubt over whether I could love someone else’s child as much as I know I could have loved our child. At best, I could. At worst, it would be akin to having a human pet. You love the thing, but it has limits. Love for a child should not have limits. My own parents have shown me that a thousand fold recently.
No known cause was determined for my lack of a naval crew (seamen/semen). I had the mumps when I was 10, but I had zero case of hugely swollen testicles that would have been indicative of the virus moving there. I was tested for klinefelter’s syndrome (XXY) – negative, but it would have explained so much don’t you think? I do believe there is a physiological reason that links my transsexualism to the infertility. Somewhere in my genetics, even though mostly male physically, something went awry. Or something went awry giving me a mostly male physicality. I like the sound of that better. 🙂
So, our only child is our Cat. Which we both love dearly, but with limits.
Thanks for reading, lots of love,
– Jess