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.

Happy 1st Mothers Day Julie

Scary, how much they have in common.

I love you, both.

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: www.resolve.org/takecharge. This post is part of the Bust a Myth Bloggers Unite project.

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.

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.

Eating Children

Julie is not pregnant.  She just ate a small child!  Get in my Belly!!!

Shakespeare in Denial

I know that it has been awhile since I posted anything. But I need to get your opinion on this statement Julie made in relationship to packing “THE” bag for the hospital.

“I will get around to it.”

At 37 weeks and 2 days and with her repeating this statement ever since our last child birth class, not to mention that 2 days ago we were “FULL term”.

Trust me I have no problem with procrastination every time I look at a diet plan I recite in my best Shakespearian accent “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!” Your right, I’m not sure how it relates, but it sounds good when I bellow it while leaping from the Kitchen to the living room couch with a plate of Pizza rolls.

To uphold our family motto of
“Love, Honor and Constant Vigilance”
I call upon you good citizens
To rise above your common day,
proclaim to Julie on her blog
that the time is right to strike down
the tyranny of procrastination,
Leap from thine denial of birthing process,
seize hold of the reigns of labor prep
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Or the day we stood up to Julie and told her to

PACK THE BAGS!!!

Video of Baby "Cate"

You can see her face halfway through video!!

Sliver bullets and prenatal care

My dearest Julie has dealing with severe heartburn especially at night throughout this pregnancy. It is so bad that it wakes her up at night. In addition to that “Cate” only is awake at night kicking. Last night was especially bad during the lunar eclipse. From this information I have deduced that the donor sperm we received from the cryobank must have been infected with lycanthropy.

Yes, that’s right our dear “Cate” is a WEREWOLF!!!

Go ahead and doubt me if you will. But, tell me if any of the cryobanks test for lycanthropy let alone do they even test on nights of the full moon. Yes I believe that our dear “Cate” will be force to join team “Jacob” oh, poor Edward. That childhood choice has been taken away from her.

I discussed theory with Julie’s doctor. Oh yes, she laughed, even scoffed but she not deny the possibility. Trust me a woman in her position will take all precautions. When she creepily hugs me and my wife during each appointment she is really checking our reactions to her defenses. Trust me no doctor naturally smells of garlic and wolfsbane like she does.

So as Julie gives birth I know we will be protected for our pediatrician will be armed to the teeth with silver bullets and holy water. She will be prepared for all contingencies. I know both “Cate” and “Julie” are in good hands.

NEWS !!!!!

IT'S A GIRL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hell's Passenger

I never knew that riding as a passenger in a car could be hazardous to my health. When Julie “Evil Knievel” takes the wheel of the car let all motorist beware, that a “sacred vessel” is on the road and looking for blood. Lord knows that any safe and appropriate mergers of other vehicles, will be meet with the sly but witty remarks of “@#%^ don’t you that there should #$%^ be 12 cars lengths of empty void in order to merge into my lane.” The road was not made for truckers; it was made for the legions of pregnant drivers. Trees dodge out of the way to protect their saplings as the red Toyota Yaris hell wagon rounds the corner. Atop this war machine from hell rides its fearsome master who is thrusting food into the face of her passengers screaming “I’M SO HUNGRY, I CAN’T EAT THIS, SMELL THIS”. The passengers try to respond . . . but her head is spinning so quickly.

I’m along for the ride. I will never know what it is like to have your body taken over and not feel like yourself at all. I will never understand how food tastes can change minute by minute. I will never understand sore boobs and shrinking bras. I’m the copilot in the passenger seat responsible for navigation. GPS in hand I try to get us to the food that sounds best, verify that the food tastes bad and steer us away from any vehicular lawsuits.

So as this pregnancy goes forward I make adjustments. I don’t mind this. I installed a five point safety harness, I wear my safety helmet and grasp tightly to the Jesus handles. I replaced all the sign on I-35 with the warning “Surrender all hope Ye, who wishes to merge.” I shovel up the piles of uneaten food and timidly say that “Yes right now cheesecake is the most disgusting thing on earth.” I hand my Dark lord her demon pitch fork and plot directions as far from other drivers as possible.

She is my Dark Lord, who I love very much and tonight after she reads this, and I spend the evening pulling a six foot pitch fork out my ass, I will still love her and will be happy as hell for the opportunity to go through this experience.

Ear Infections Suck

I have never had an ear infection before and this is horrible.  I never realized they were so painful.  I haven't sleep nmore than 2 hrs at a time for the last four nights.  I am exhausted and I want to ram an icepick into my ear.  I am not a big pill taker,and I have been down tylenol every four hours.  And they only help the pain for two. The side of my face is swollen, It hurts from the bottom of my jaw all the way to the top of my skull.  I have to sleep almost sitting up on the couch.  I miss my bed and I miss snuggling with Julie and touching her belly as she is asleep.

 Thanks for listening to me whine.  I am a horrible sick person.

Spreading the Good News

It is now official. We stopped off under an interstate bridge and I talked to a homeless man who was eating a leftover McDonalds Big Mac that he found on the side of the road. I told him that Julie was knocked up. Now everyone in the states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida and South Carolina all know that Julie is pregnant and that I am really excited about it.

Now onto Georgia!

Research

At this point everything that I have learned about parenting, I have learned from West Wing. Babies come with hats. It must be an awe inspiring sight for the nurse at the hospital to open that shipping box and see hundreds of hats longing for a ride home on the top babies head. That first childhood trophy a parent can be proud of.

So in order to learn more about this parenting thing I decided to turn to the source of my own mental internet. I went to “that” closet, underneath the stacks of aged computer supplies, slightly used camping equipment, and boxes of magazines that I cannot seem to part with. I complete my archeological dig through the closet remnants of my life to find my box of inspiration. The collection of VCR tapes I cannot part from.

I pulled out my worn and eroded copy of the greatest movie ever to deal with infertility: Raising Arizona. I admit that as we were going through infertility I had called upon this oracle in my head to give me inspiration to get through this process. How could one survive without these passages of wisdom?

H.I.: Biology and the prejudices of others conspired to keep us childless.

H.I.: Sometimes it's a hard world for small things.

H.I.: We figured there was too much happiness here for just the two of us, so we figured the next logical step was to have us a critter.

By unrolling this scroll of wisdom I have decided that I too need to get me a copy of the instruction book, Dr. Spock‘s Baby and Child Care. You would think that god would have this book drop right out of the womb right after the placenta. I guess even God couldn’t figure out how to put a printing press next to an ovary.

I jumped from my living room throne grabbed my queen by the arm ran to the car screaming “We have no time to waste. We must have this book now!” Thank God my queen indulges my dramatic delusions on a regular basis. So with a loving verbal smack across the face I was told that I was old and what the hell does a Vulcan know about babies. Then she went on for about five minutes about how hot Spock was in the new movie. Then she tossed me What to Except When You‘re Expecting. I was kind of disappointed, not in the book, I’m sure it is a very good book. It just doesn’t have that same ring of trusted honesty that Dr. Spock did.

As I curl back up in my living room throne I peruse the pages during commercial breaks. Then it happens: TBS superstation, 5 pm, channel 46, She’s Having a Baby. Thank you John Hughes, my research can continue.

NEWS

WE ARE PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!

In case you haven't guessed I am excited.

Ovulate - A Ten Minute Play

This is a 10 min play that I started working on right after I got engaged to Julie.  I couldn't sleep one night and wrote it instead.  Kind of ironic now.

Ovulate

Jane is sitting on the bed with a thermometer in her mouth. She is dressed only in a robe. She takes the thermometer out of her mouth and reads it. There is a book on the bed on how to get pregnant or something to the effect of “Pregnancy for Dummies” and a stack of pillows.

JANE
(Yelling)
Dick . . . Dick!
DICK
(From another room)
What?
JANE
Dick . . . Dick . . .
(Rapidly)
Dick,Dick,come,come,come,come,come,come,come,come,come . . . Quickly.
DICK
(Rushing into the room in a panic)
What . . . what’s the matter?
JANE
I’m ovulating.
DICK
(Quizzically)
You just told me to “come quickly” . . . because you’re ovulating?
JANE
Yes!
DICK
Congratulations,
(Starts to walk out of the room.)
I am happy for you.
JANE
Dick stop . . . Turn around.
DICK
(Turns)
What?
JANE
Get undressed.
DICK
Are you serious?
JANE
(Still looking at the book as if she is copying a diagram. She is moving pillows into a stack)
I am going to lay with these pillows under my butt. While you do your thing. That way I will be a better receptacle.
DICK
A receptacle?
JANE
Yeah, for your sperm.
DICK
Feels like I should put a plastic bag in first.
JANE
No, don’t do that.
DICK
What?
JANE
That wouldn’t help.
DICK
Are you trying to tell me something here?
JANE
Yes.
DICK
What?
JANE
We’re gonna to make a baby.
DICK
We are?
JANE
Right now.
DICK
Why?
JANE
Why?
DICK
Why?
JANE
(Dramaticly)
Why does anyone want to have a baby? What a silly question!
DICK
Why is it silly?
JANE
I thought maybe . . . you might have a problem with this.
DICK
When did you decide this?
JANE
This morning when I decided I was going to get organized. I told you all about it.
DICK
I thought you meant you were going to clean out your closet.
JANE
I did that too.
DICK
Well that’s good . . . at least you completed one thing today.
JANE
I plan on completing a lot more than that.
DICK
Huh?
JANE
I also composed a list of the reasons we should propagate.
DICK
Propagate?
JANE
Yes, propagate. . . to multiply or breed, to transmit characteristics from one generation to another.
DICK
To cause, to spread, to extend, to impel or continue forward in space; as, to propagate sound or light . . . You looked that up didn’t you.
JANE
How did you know?
DICK
I’m weird like that.
JANE
I felt I needed to keep this decision as unemotional as possible.
DICK
Really?
JANE
This is why I came up with this list of the reason’s why we should have a baby. I call them the ABC’s of babies.
(These are read rather quickly)
“A” is for Adam because he was the first, “B” is for babies of course, “C” is because babies are so cute, “D” is for Dick . . . That is because I love you . . . it is also for diapers . . . “E” is for . . .
DICK
How many of these do you have?
JANE
26.
DICK
Great.
JANE
“E” is for epidural, “F” is for fun, “G” is for girl because I really want a little girl, “H” is for heredity . . . Because you have good genes, “I” is for inheritance because we will have to save money, “J”
(Thinks for a second)
Just because “K”, kids “L”, love you . . .
(Smiles)
and so do I, honey.
DICK
Kill me now.
JANE
“M” is for marriage, this is what married people do . . . “N” is for Nursery we should paint it pink. “O” Ovulating,
(Thinks)
Maybe you should get undressed.
DICK
What?
JANE
“P” Parents were going to be parents, “Q” Quality . . . It is our job to provided a good Quality of life for our children, “R” . . . we're reasonable people. “S” son . . . I know you want a son. “T” Today before it is to late, “U” urgent my clock is ticking, “V” Viagra . . .
DICK
What?
JANE
Just kidding. “W” window of opportunity, “Y” yes you will do it, and finally “Z” Zygote
(sing song)
Were going to make a Zygote, Were going to make a Zygote.
(Puts her arms around him and hangs from his back)
Come on honey.
DICK
You skipped “X”
JANE
Exactly.
DICK
Funny.
JANE
(Grabbing at his crotch)
Get undressed, Let’s get started.
DICK
(Wiggling away)
Wow, aren’t you the romantic.
JANE
What?
(Seductively)
Am I suppose to wine and dine you? Maybe, lots of candles,rose peddles and soft music. . . I didn’t know you were into that.
DICK
(Slightly agitated)
I don’t know.
JANE
You never complained about a quickie in the afternoon before.
(Imitating Dick)
“Oh please honey, tie me to the bed and have your way with me now.”
DICK
Stop that! If I remember correctly it was your idea to do that in the first place . . . besides that was different.
JANE
How?
DICK
It just is.
JANE
Dick . . . you still stick in the same place.
DICK
I know.
JANE
You still get all sweaty.
DICK
I know.
JANE
You still make that stupid face you make when you . . .
DICK
Stop.
JANE
Kinda Like Elvis.
DICK
Stop!
JANE
I like that face.
DICK
(Embarrassed)
Stop!
JANE
Then what’s wrong?
DICK
It’s just this time it has a purpose.
JANE
(Sarcastically)
Oh, it never had a purpose before?
DICK
No, that's not what I meant.
JANE
What? . . . You were doing it out of boredom before?
DICK
That’s not what I meant.
JANE
(Smiling)
Oh, OK.
DICK
This time it just feels like . . . I am playing a slot machine. Hoping to hit a jackpot.
JANE
Well, your not going to hit a cherry.
DICK
I know that.
JANE
What are you thinking? . . . my eyeballs are going to flash some lucky seven’s and a baby drops out?
DICK
I don’t know.
JANE
(Making a slot machine sound.)
Ding, ding, ding, ding . . .
(Pause, then starts being comforting)
I know,this is scary.
DICK
It is.
JANE
But Dick we’re both 38 years old if we want to have a child . . . now is the time to do it . . . What do you want to be, 90 when the kid graduates from high school?
DICK
No.
JANE
I mean your hair is already graying.
DICK
(Slightly panicky)
What?
JANE
I like it honey.
DICK
(Deep sigh)
Oh . . .
JANE
I know everything is going to change when we have this kid. Everything . . . The house will change, our finances, our sex life, our daily routine . . . were going to have to face diapers, midnight feedings, arguments, parent teacher conferences, sporting events, scrapped knees, stitches, broken bones, prom, graduation, boyfriends, girlfriends, arguments, curfews, groundings, college, worries, ups, downs and all arounds.
DICK
I’m just kind a scared.
JANE
Me too . . . But you are a great husband, I love you and you are going to be a wonderful father . . . you have so much to give.
DICK
(looks at her)
You're going to be great too.
JANE
I love you.
DICK
I love you too.
(They kiss)
JANE
Maybe I was wrong about something.
DICK
What?
JANE
Maybe I was being to clinical.
DICK
Why do you say that?
JANE
(Pulling some rope or handcuffs out of her robe pocket and dangles it in front of his face.)
Nobody said we couldn’t make a baby . . . with you strapped to the bed.
(they both run to the bed tearing off their clothes)

Comrades in Arms

I found me today a comrade in arms. I took our new-found dog to the vet to be neutered. I felt that I should have a talk with him and let him know that I could emphasize with what he was going through.

Kreacher looked so excited and when he jumped into the car and looked out the windows. Julie behind the wheel, me in the passenger seat and a dogs head resting on my shoulder looking out the front window with that “are we there yet expression?”

The thought ran through my head maybe this wasn't necessary, maybe he can't have children already, maybe he has azoospermia as well. Hell, it sounds like something a dog should have instead of a human anyway. I almost had Julie turn the car around get a cup and some doggie porn and lets just see what that sperm count was before we take that drastic measure of slicing off the boys. Then I did a quick Google search in my brain and thought about what the doggie porn would look like, and decided it was probably a bad idea.

When we entered the door to the vet, he was gone. They swooped in and took him away to a back room as quick as I could be handed a clipboard. No farewells, No wishing him support, No wife holding his paw, only strangers in a sterile hospital room , examining, manipulating, and slicing his manhood. Facing it alone. I know, I couldn't have done that without Julie holding my paw.

Four hours later I picked him up. He came out as happy to see me. I bent down to hug him and he rammed his plastic cone into my face trying to lick me but unable to reach. We got into the car and I explained to him what the doctor said. I knew that he needed to hear that because even though he was standing right there when the doctor told him none of it registered, none of it made sense.

I explained the birth control advantage to him. “Think of all the money you will save.” I suggested that he have all the pre-marital sex he wanted worry free. Hell, he could hit a doggie swingers club and go to town. He will never have a paternity suit, and if his wife ever does get pregnant, it will either be immaculate conception or he'll need to beat the crap out of the mailman.

When we got to the house Kreacher laid down on the floor in front of the couch wearing his “Cone of Shame” with pride, not knowing how silly he looks in it, or how much fun Julie and I will have tonight making bad jokes about it. Sometimes I wish that I could put on a “Cone of Silence” instead. Silence everyone who knows what is wrong with me, silence the constant talk about fertility, silence the uncertainty. One thing to remember is that the “Cone of Silence” never worked, and the most embarrassing things were always heard. Maybe silence is not the answer.

A Twist on "What if"

“What if . . .” For me it wasn’t and sometimes still isn’t “What if” but rather “It would be better if.” When I first learned about the Azoospermia this is exactly where my mind ran to. These were the If’s I had then.

It would be better if I didn’t make things more difficult for her.

It would be better if she’d married someone her own age.

It would be better if this wasn’t messing with me this much.

It would be better if I could support her though this.

It would be better if I could just accept this.

It would be better if I could move on.

It would be better if I could stop crying.

It would be better if I could hold my s*** together.

It would be better if she didn’t see me like this.

It would be better if we didn’t try to have children.

It would be better if I had sperm.

It would be better if I wasn’t a total F*** up!

These were my thoughts the first night after receiving the phone call from the doctor at 7:00 in the evening. I would be lying if I said I didn’t still have some of these thoughts. But that’s what they are thoughts and only thoughts. A “What if”, “It would be better if”, or the even basic “if” can only help in the future tense and only harm in the past tense.