It's April 2020.
COVID is here; I'm working from home; Brian is laid off from work for a couple weeks and doing lots of projects around the house (like installing backsplash in our kitchen and building lots of things from wood). I'm watching every press conference and every newscast to figure out what the heck is going on in the world and when we might possibly get to continue our fertility journey and return to some sort of normalcy.
It's May 2020.
COVID is still here; I'm still working from home; Brian is back to work. We have a Zoom call with the urologist, which I'm still not sure why. The doctor was 45 minutes late logging in and we didn't get any answers. It was not a good first impression.
Brian finally gets to have his appointment on Wednesday, May 13. I don't get to go in due to the pandemic, so I sit in the truck. It was a rainy and dreary day, which matched my mood.
I was pissed. This was supposed to be our journey together. Yet, I'm sitting in the parking lot talking to one of my best friends who is trying to distract me from my angst and anxiety by talking about her upcoming wedding, bridesmaid dresses and shoes.
What seems like HOURS later (ok, maybe it was more like 25 minutes), Brian was done. Here is a synopsis of what he says about this appointment (in his own words):
Did not like the urologist
Did not like him feeling up my manhood
Did not give us any answers (just some maybe this's and maybe that's)
I was less than impressed and hugely disappointed
He said everything looked fine from my exam
THEN, he was supposed to call to set up my MRI appointment for the next couple days, and that took more time just to schedule the appointment
It's June 2020.
June 1. Brian has his MRI and the urologist is supposed to call us with results in the next 24-48 hours. He had to drink this stuff pictured here before the imaging to make it easy to see what's going on in there.
I am impatient.
The doctor said he'd call 24-48 hours and now it's been 5 days. My husband is much more patient than me, but he even calls the doctor for results, and we don't get a call back. We've been waiting on pins and needles for these results, praying for a blockage because at least THAT would give us an explanation and a blockage would be treatable.
Finally, FINALLY, I get a text from Brian on June 5:
"Urologist called. No blockage. Everything looks fine."
My heart dropped to my office floor. And I lost it. I called my mom, crying. I called my friend who was on her way to Iowa for her bridal shower the next day. Crying.
The hope I was clinging so tightly to was quickly dissipating right before my eyes.
And there was nothing I could do.
Where do we go from here?
Not the results we wanted, prayed for or expected. So what do we do next?
Brian was referred to a well-known urologist at the University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics in Iowa City
This doctor specializes in male infertility and azoospermia
He performs surgeries where he slices into a man's testicles and tries to extract sperm for IVF (big YIKES)
We have a consultation scheduled for June 23
Stay tuned for more (I know you're dying to hear more details about this surgery).
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