My wife talked me into writing a blog that deals with Male Infertility. The Elusive Male Perspective. Beyond that, simply enjoy and have fun with it!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

The Best part of my last year

It has been a long time since I posted on this Blog.  As you can see I've had something wonderful occupying most of my thoughts this last year. She is forcing me to face some really hard decisions in my life.  That is one way that I know I really love her.  Only Cate and Julie have ever made me want to be a better person and that is the one thing that I would never want to change about either one of them.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Bust a Myth: Infertility ends at Birth

We all dream of that Technicolor moment, sunset in the background, pulling ourselves from a tilled field, thrusting a newborn baby into the air and pledging in our most impassioned Scarlet O’Hara voice “As God is my witness. I will never be Infertile again.” The problem is that infertility slaps you in the face and says “Frankly I don’t give a damn.” It keeps on slapping you in the face even after the baby is born.

When we are faced with dire news, we desire things to go back to the way they were, back to the status quo, back to before the antagonist was introduced into the movie. But once that element enters the scene the south will never be the same again. We have no choice but to deal, cope, or compensate for what has happened to us. We subjugate ourselves to humiliations of painful examinations, explanations to the family members, and jealous painful spite of every other child in the world that is not yours.

So we grasp hold of that turnip of a dream, in the middle of field, and convince yourself that the birth of that child you will so dearly love will end your personal pain. But it doesn’t, at least not for a DI dad. It is so wrong of me to ask that of a child, ask it to stop my pain.

This child is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me. My life with her is a Technicolor dream; she fills my life with colors I would never have imagined. But she has to be separate from infertility. She cannot be defined as our child born out of infertility; our conquering goal. She doesn’t need that baggage. She just needs to be a child, a kid, a teenager, a adult, a person I love with all my heart.

I was told by a school counselor after looking at a picture of our child that she didn’t look like me. I told her she shouldn’t; she was conceived by donor insemination. She told me that I didn’t need to tell people that, I could keep that private. I can’t do that.  If I did I would be hiding my pain in my child and that would be wrong. I would be using her to cover my weaknesses. Who am I to take these drapes of childhood and pass them off as a dress? I have decided that I will talk about what I am, and who I am. I will take ownership of my choices and I will wear them with pride myself.

Infertility still lives in me and it will. Once you have a diagnosis you are not cured. Once a alcoholic always an alcoholic. Once infertile I will always be infertile. I will always have questions to answer. I will always have people question our decision. I will always have the fear of our child in a moment of teenage angst will tell me I am not her real father. I know every argument that a father is not defined by genetics. But I do have that fear one day it will happen. But those are my fears and I will have to be the one to face them.

So maybe, I will go home tonight and throw on my best Scarlett O’Hara dress at sunset walk out into the back yard with Cate, and thrust her into the air and say in my most impassioned voice. “World, say what you want, I don’t give a damn!”

 It's National Infertility Awareness Week. Infertility affects 1 out of every 8 couples... like me. Find out how you can participate and provide support to 7.3 million people living with this disease: This post is part of the Bust a Myth Bloggers Unite project.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Cate is HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Status Update

Julie has just reach 8 cm.  It shouldn't be long now.

Sweet Dreams are made of

When we first started this whole preganancy process one of the best moments was when we first heard the heartbeat.  The was no way that Julie or myself could keep from tearing up. No one tells you that when you are in the "THE" room the only constant sound you can hear is her heartbeat.  So last night I got a 160+ beat per minute lullaby.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Gladiator names

I have decided that Julie and I need Gladiator names to get through this birthing process. What better way to go into the battle of labor than with the spirit of that great fighting force, the armed combatant known as the Roman Gladiator. In fighting or birthing well, we could inspire admiration and popular acclaim throughout the Roman or dare I say Texas Republic.  On the cusp of this great battle we are as of yet unnamed, I call upon you good citizens of the Republic bless us with a name fitting of a conquering hero of the arena.