OK, well, it’s not so private, obviously, is it? And I’m not really ashamed, since there’s not much I can do about the situation. But I love the provocative title, and I’m sure my RSS subscriber(s) do(es) too.
Leah stopped off at her Ob/Gyn’s office this morning to pick up another analysis kit for me after taking Ava to the dentist (Ava’s teeth are great, BTW; thanks for asking). While there, she grabbed the complete results of the last analysis. Turns out, in addition to the not-so-stellar numbers we first learned, that my motility was on the low end of the average range, and my “progressive motility” was below normal. I’m starting to think Ava’s conception was more of a miracle than I’d already thought.
I feel bad because I know Leah is disappointed by this state of affairs. While she tries not to go there (and I guess there’s a chance she’s not thinking this at all, but it’s a slim one), there’s an implicit impugnment of my manhood — my fitness — in all this. If not for Ava, there would be a lot of stress at our house right now. It’s difficult to even imagine the enmity that would suffuse our days, from Leah toward me because of my inability to contribute to a child, and from me toward Leah for her anger at me for my inability to contribute to a child. Did I mention, thank goodness for Ava?
I’ll do another analysis next week sometime. If the results come in below normal again (and what’re the odds they won’t?), I’m off to a urologist to explore possible reasons for my obstinate, lazy, malformed seed. Following that, an IUI is first on the list of interventions. I’ve told Leah I’m not interested in going much further than that to conceive, but she’s pretty insistent on Ava having a sibling (and on being pregnant again, though that motivation is totally beyond my comprehension after seeing what she went through the first time).
If only there were something I could eat or drink that would strengthen my sperm. I catch myself thinking ridiculous thoughts. Like this morning. I made a smoothie with banana, skim milk, frozen blueberries and raspberries, and frozen yogurt. As I spooned it out of my coffee cup, I thought, “I bet this’ll be good for my motility.” It’s no way to live.