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.<\/p>\n
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<\/a> 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.<\/p>\n 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<\/em> 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?<\/p>\n 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 <\/a>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).<\/p>\n