Infertility

Time to buff the banana

Today, Sam went for his sperm analysis. He insisted to the Receptionist when he made the appointment that he would ‘do the deed’ at home and bring it to clinic within the hour as advised. However, he informed me he didn’t want to do it at home and then feel rushed to get it there in time. Instead he would just use one of the bathrooms at the clinic as he was too embaressed to do it in one of the special little rooms they have there. Despite my protestations that he had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about (a shot in your bum and all the subsequent investigations that are going to have in my vagina are far more ’embarrassing’) he wouldn’t change his mind.

We arrived at the clinic and off he went to find a bathroom only to return about five minutes later. They were all too busy so he was just going to go to the special room! Later, he appeared once the task was completed. We should get the results either today or tomorrow. I’m feeling slightly nervous since Sam informed me he didn’t manage to get all of the payload into the cup. Let’s hope that what he did manage to get in there was enough!

Throughout this entire experience so far, I find that its the waiting that is the worst. Waiting to see the Doctor, waiting for the insurance company to make a decision, waiting for test results is just empty time that allows my mind to wander off and come to all its own conclusions. I’m terrified of being optimistic in case, in some twisted way, I’m tempting fate. Perhaps that comes from being a Brit too.

 

 

 

 

 

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