The first steps
I realized my our first step was to have D tested. We both agreed, if he wasn’t fertile, then we probably wouldn’t proceed. He turned out to be not only fertile, but SUPER-fertile. He had some insane number above the threshold for male fertility, although at his age, his boys were slow. The doctor recommended a treatment that compensates for the lessening of the motility of the sperm and sent us onto the next step, finding a doctor who would listen to me and not think I was some poor, sad, old woman who could not come to grips with infertility.
I do have to admit, I thought if it weren’t meant to be, I hoped that D would be the problem. I had faced and come to peace with my situation a few years back. I still had my moments of regret–times when I would see someone with a baby and think “this is never going to happen for me.” But, I had for the most part accepted that my life, even childless, was good. I loved my nieces and nephew. I loved the time I spent with them and I especially loved giving their whingey behinds back to their parents.
But, alas, D and his super sperm were not a problem. Next step, my doctor.
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