Ramblings of a sleep deprived mind…

Morning kids,

Not too sure what I want to post about today, but really struggled to get to sleep last night and thought a few times about getting up and typing something to you guys to see if that would make me feel better and allow me to finally get some sleep. However, I didn’t get up – your mom’s got a ridiculously hectic time at work this week and was up and out the house before 5am yesterday morning and was on the go all day…so she’s absolutely shattered and I knew that getting up and sitting in the office would disturb her much needed rest…so I just lay there thinking for hours and hours. Yup, another SNAIF (Sleepless Night Attributed to Infertility for those who haven’t memorised my super-duper HopelesslyTTC IF acronyms list).

Last night, while I was laying there in the dark, I thought of loads of things I wanted to tell you about, but now I sit here this morning, tired and bleary eyed, and it’s like I’ve become mentally constipated…do you get laxatives for the mind?? You must do, I’m convinced that an awful lot of people are taking them!

I’m in a bit of a funny place again…we’ve got our first appointment with the new FS (albeit at the same clinic) next week Tuesday and it sort of feels like another D-day is approaching…a dreaded DECISION is racing rapidly towards us…ready to knock us off this reed thin emotional tight-rope that we seems to walk during this TTC journey…just when you think you’ve got your balance right and you’re both coping splendidly…something comes along and induces a serious wobble.

I’ve been on these Pregnyl injections for just over 12 weeks now (three times a week) in the hopes that injecting LH into my system will wake my lazy testicles up enough for them to start producing Testosterone. That in itself isn’t the main target…I have after all been injecting myself with T on and off for over a decade (well actually your mom’s been sticking it to me – there’s no way I can reach around and inject myself in my own arse!!). No, the whole point of these injections is to try and give us some idea of whether my testes are developed enough that they would be likely to respond to FSH and produce sperm…because my bloody useless pituitary gland (now named Paris Pituitary as it’s never done an honest days work in its life) hasn’t been producing these hormones…so my testes have been sort of just hanging out, not doing much, just sort of there for decoration really…as much use as a waterproof teabag!

I’ve been for a couple of blood tests over the last few months to see whether there’s been any response, whether my body has started producing its own T – but the results haven’t looked good so far. One more blood test on Friday and I’m pretty sure that if the results are not an overwhelming ‘Yes’, that it’s back to searching for Zorro time…donor sperm here we come…if you’ll excuse the weak pun.

I’ve decided that I also want to do another SA for this appointment (yes, I know, cos life isn’t bad enough I’ll subject myself to that ordeal)…not because I have any real hope that my testes have suddenly woken up and decided to play ball (jeez – bad puns seem to be the flavour of this post…sorry), but because I don’t want to look back in a years time and wonder if we moved on to DS too quickly. I want a resounding NO, so that all the doubts and possible “what if’s” that will creep up on me in the wee hours of the night sometime in the future, are smothered before they can even begin. I need the FS to tell me that my nuts are as useful as ABS on a skateboard, a parachute in a submarine, honesty & sincerity to a politician…whatever. Because, without this absolute No, it’s going to be even harder to give up on this dream of having my own biological kids…something I didn’t know was such an important thing to me until very recently.

Mentally and intellectually, I’ve come to terms with this decision – I know that I will love you kids unconditionally whether you have my poxy genes or Zorro’s hopefully fantastic genetic material. I know that when I hold you in my arms, it won’t matter that much what we’ve had to go through to get you guys – it would have all been worth it…but I also know that given a choice, I would want you to be mine, genetically speaking too. And so, as much as I’ve come to terms with it intellectually, I know that emotionally it’s not that easy. 99.99% of the time, it won’t matter, but there will always be those little moments, those half-seconds, where it’ll still hurt, where a chance remark from some ignorant stranger will have me raging internally at fate/god/karma whatever, that I couldn’t have kids of my own.

I feel like it shouldn’t be such a big deal. I’m in the unusual situation where it looks like I’ll be the house-husband, with your mom returning to her career after her maternity leave. So I will be there 24/7, I’ll get to bond with you guys in a way that the vast majority of fathers don’t. I’ll get to spend that precious time with you, being instrumental in the development of your minds, your personalities, your interests, your hobbies – I will be able to have a greater impact on your ‘non-genetic’ characteristics than most genetic fathers do with their kids…and that should make a big difference emotionally to me. It’s something I’m really looking forward to. I’m longing for the days when I can take you to the beach (or anywhere else you guys want to go) when everyone else’s father is slogging their guts out at work, only seeing their kids for a short while in the morning and an hour or two at night before bedtime and on weekends.

I want to spend summer days throwing you in the pool (after I’ve taught you how to swim I suppose), winters making cards and drawing pictures for your mom, we’ll paint and read, we’ll watch cartoons and Discovery channel, we’ll kick a ball on the field down the road and ride bicycles and plant vegetables (although your mom will want to be the one to do that with you)…and in all of this, the fact that you aren’t my kids genetically, will not make any difference…and that’s what I need to focus on, because when I lose sight of that, and think about not being capable of producing even just one sperm cell for a successful IVF/ICSI, I want to crawl up into a ball and cry.

Maybe I’m just tired…but I miss you guys…wish you were here already…

~ by HopelesslyTTC on 25/11/2009.