Journals from the Past

I reflected last week on the year anniversary of our first Semen Analysis and the devastating diagnosis we received. I've come a long way since then. At our Resolve meeting last night, yep I went again and it was awesome again, I was surprised by how confident and relaxed I felt. Today as I clean out some old files on my laptop, I opened an old journal to find some entries from last year, right after our first UR appointment. It's pretty powerful to read, and again a reminder of how far I've come on this journey. I wanted so much to share this with someone last year, but I wasn't ready to be so open. This seems like an appropriate place and time to share. Here goes....

I read everyday, but haven't been able to write. I want to contribute to the discussion, but I am struggling with balancing the need to connect with others who understand this experience and a strong desire for privacy. Even with screen names, the internet feels so public. 

We had our first consult with a reproductive urologist. I felt like an idiot, barely able to communicate, and definitely not strong for my husband. I had written out a list of questions in advance and actually handed the list to the Dr. My husband was great - following the discussion and asking relevant questions. I just sat there with tears running down my face. I'd prepared a letter to the Doctor and his staff to have put in our file, introducing my husband and I, reminding him that every interaction with him or his staff was highly emotional and stressful for us, asking for help in understanding the financial cost of any options that were presented to us, etc... and it had our picture on it. At the very end of the consult I handed the Dr the letter and it was like a lightbulb came on. He brought the patient coordinator nurse into the room to meet us, gave us the card for the financial counselor, and encouraged us to make an appt with the office counselor. The doctor was great before the letter, but after reading it remembered the humanity of us as a couple who were scared and in pain.
We are now waiting for results of hormones and genetic testing. I am putting all of my thoughts into hoping that the results show that we are lucky enough to move forward with a TESE, and trying to brace myself if that is not an option.
Speaking of bracing myself, I got a massage last week and realized that I was actually physically bracing myself for some sort of impact. As I started to relax, I started crying. I want to be strong for my husband. I need to hold it together at work. I honestly don't want to talk about any of this. But it is constantly swirling in my head. I am constantly in a state of apprehension. I am constantly on the verge of tears. I didn't realize how much I needed to be cared for. and how important it is going to be for me to figure out some ways to take care of myself - to create safe places where I can let my guard down. 

The physical exhaustion I've felt since getting the first SA results should have been a clue as to how much energy I am exerting to hold it together. Being at home with my husband is easiest. Being at work is okay if I can be focused on a specific task. I told my boss and direct co-worker that we had “some medical stuff going on... I felt like a zombie... I didn't want to talk about it.” They've been pretty respectful, but I know that they could ask about it at any time, and I hate that. With my irratinal emotional breakdowns and random days off for doctor appointments, I had to let them know that sometime was up and that it had nothing to do with them. Being around my one friend and two family member who know is okay. They want to be supportive, but I know that they can't understand. At least with them I know that I don't have to lie or pretend that everything is okay. Being around  friends and family who don't know is exhausting. I swear that talk of getting pregnant or babies comes up in every conversation. When we were trying, I had no problem lying and telling people that we were going to wait until I got better insurance, or until my husband got a better job, or that we just weren't ready yet. We'd wanted our trying to be private between us, as it is in fact among the most intimate and private activities that a couple ever engages in. Apparently I was so good at these fibs, when I recently told my best friend that we were having some problems, she was shocked. Ironically she was happy that her 22-week pre-nate wouldn't have to wait another 5 years for a friend, while I was considering for the first time in my life that I might never have a family. For whatever reason, when the topic comes up now I feel completely exposed and raw. and unequipped to participate in the discussion.  It takes everything I have to hold myself together so as not to let on that I want to run and hide and disappear.  We are married couples in our early 30's, so it really isn't an inappropriate subject. It's just that everything about it all of a sudden, to me, feels so invasive and out of control and, inappropriate.  I now brace myself for this part of the conversation everytime we hang out with friends. And it takes ….so.... much …. energy. 

Someone said that the first days and weeks after getting a zero SA are the worst, but it does get better. Thank you for that wisdom and encouragement. I think that I cried more in those first two weeks than I have in the past five years. For some reason driving was especially hard. Maybe the car is a private,  space where I was safe to let my guard down. I drive to meetings everyday at work, and I must have cried almost everytime I got in the car. Crying is exhausting work. I may have been physically present at these meetings, but I assure you that I was not mentally present. I was exhausted. And I couldn't eat. I've always had a hard time eating when I am under stress. It is so hard to swallow. To swallow the food, and to swallow the truth and reality of everything else that is hitting me. Besides, my stomach was in knots. Food really was not appealing. Breathing was hard too. It was as if I had to remember to breath. And as if the sobbing had hurt my diaphram, causing it to seize up everytime I exhaled. As I write this I realize that this has passed and that I can breath normally again. Reminds me of the saying, this too shall pass. 

This week has been much better. I had a full day without tears. I worked past 5 a few nights and didn't feel as thought I would pass out from exhaustion driving home. Looking back I think it started last Sunday at breakfast where I was able to eat a full meal. It is crazy to me how severely the stress of this diagnosis has physically affected me. It is unreal.