Dear IVFmale, ivf and accomplishments
I’m constantly amazed how some people find this blog using search engines. Take my top 5 search terms this week…
One of my reasons for starting this blog was to help get the male’s perspective of the infertility story told. When I first found out about my condition, I searched the web for answers and guidance about the journey I was just starting. Most of what I found were women dealing with infertility due to a male factor condition. While helpful, it missed the mark in what I was craving. A male’s understanding of the shock I was feeling. To connect in some small way with another also dealing with the emotions of my Severe Male Factor diagnosis. A couple of good male perspective blogs were found, many were not.
One male blogger put everything in terms of Star Wars. I love Star Wars. I’m a total Star Wars geek. George Lucas turned into the Evil Empire…Han Solo shot first…Phantom and Clones are an abomination that Lucas should be ashamed of…I get the attraction of Star Wars. I don’t want Star Wars ruined even further by linking it with infertility. Just NO!
My ivf accomplishment has been creating this blog. A place to laugh at infertility when you’re just tired of crying about it. Yet still put forward real emotion which others may fear admitting. The search engine verification process was my attempt to reach out to others just beginning their struggle with infertility.
Where men can come and understand it’s normal to feel a sense of loss after hearing bad news about you’re condition. There is still hope. Always remember, a couple will survive the hard times by working together. Sometimes you support her, other times she will support you. Don’t feel ashamed to talk to your wife about your struggles. She is probably wanting you too.
A place where a woman can learn what their husband is feeling, but he won’t speak about. To understand men struggle just as much with the emotions of infertility that they are. We don’t go quiet because we’re cold and heartless…it’s because we care and we’re afraid to cause the woman in our life even more distress. We don’t understand that talking about what we are feeling would actually help her. Let your man know talking about his feelings will help you both. And be a little forgiving if the words don’t come out right, because we’re not used to talking about feelings.
I’m very proud of this blog. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would be so popular with folks wanting to make meringue from semen and puppy pictures. Three of my top five search terms are for Bandit! Now you’re probably asking yourself, how “missing half of face” could possibly be attributed to Bandit?
I’m glad you asked; I wondered the same thing. My request to Mr. Google left me scratching my head. Nothing related to my blog, and I wasn’t about to scan several pages of people missing half their face to find out why. Tagging “ivfmale” onto the end made it clear why this person found me.
In my post The Cock-tese I talked about Bandit being half Cocker Spaniel and half Maltese. Then pointed out the adorable face and stated he was missing his momma since we just picked him up from the breeder.
Even while looking at the grotesqueness of people with only half a face, Bandit snatched them away to look at cute adorable puppy pictures!
Further down the list we have…
— male nut cursher
Quit being sexist. A female can cursh nuts as well as any male can. What is a nut cursher anyway?
— ivf “calling in sick”
Go right ahead.
— punishment needle
— i gave my wife a needle injection as afun
I bet you both have no problems procreating…but you still need to seek help!
— 4dp3dt and lots of cm
STOP! STOP! STOP! The ups and downs are bad enough from the doctor, quit adding to it. I understand if checking your cm now brings you comfort from doing it so often…but lay off googling about it. You can pee on a stick in a few more days. GOOD LUCK!
— male hospital exam funny stories
Have you heard the one about getting a testicle and prostate exam from a urologist while the wife watches?
An odd request
The wife did several tests and passed them all. Before going any further checking her out, they are requesting I come in for a semen analysis. Apparantly it is a solo operation that must be done at the office, not in the comfort of my home. What an odd situation.
The nice lady hands me a cup and asks when I last had sex. I guess them telling me not to have sex for 2 days prior to the test wasn’t good enough, they want me to verify it in writing. I’m told to ejaculate into this cup, put the lid on it and record the time. Easy enough. As we walk back to the room I can’t help but laugh. Even if I suspected someone was masturbating in the room next to me at work, that isn’t something I would really want to know. Yet all these people know exactly what I am going to be doing in the room next to them. Creepy. I guess they just focus on their job and not think about it.
She opens the door and points to the folding chair with a paper towel on it in the middle of a bathroom. Then kindly shows me the drawers containing magazines to help assist me in my task. Let me repeat that. It’s a bathroom with a folding chair in the middle of it. Now guys are not picky, but this is pushing it. A cot, or one of those examination beds where I can get a little comfortable would be a great help. She leaves me to my duty as I read the sign above a little door asking me to mark the time I finish on the lid, initialize it, then place the cup in the door and ring the bell. Easy. I turn and lock the door and prepare myself for the task at hand.
I thumb through the magazines provided, 8 different issues of Playboy. With the internet they are still in business? Huh. I flip through them and they are all young hot women way out of my league. Maybe if the setting was more comfortable they might help, but on a folding chair in the middle of a bathroom they just don’t do anything for me. Adding to the stuggle are the voices I hear through the walls. I can’t tell what they are saying but it better not be how long I’m taking, because I DON’T NEED ANY MORE PRESSURE! Which leads back to thoughts about them knowing what I’m doing in here. For some that might be a turn on, for me, not so much.
Frustrated I put the magazines neatly back in the drawer. The last thing I want is to be the guy who caused a big crease in the middle of Miss July for the next guy to try and ignore. I give the imagination trick a try. I finally settle on a fantasy with the wife that seems to be working very well. Of course it’s all the things I like to do. What’s great about the fantasy is she is asking me if she can do those things and not me asking her. Allowing me to be selfish without the guilt of asking to be selfish does the trick. If you thought peeing in a cup was difficult, that is cake compared to this. I don’t know about other guys, but I’m not a very good multitasker. Trying to ejaculate into a cup while pretending you are not ejaculating into a cup that I’m holding with one hand and aiming with the other…I was pretty pleased I didn’t spill a drop. Yet disappointed there was no award given for accomplishing such a feat. Providing a rubber which I could then place into a cup would make this operation a whole lot easier.
I marked the time on the lid, placed it in the little door and rang the bell. After washing up I took as a consolation prize the ability to walk out the door without having to face anybody. And rewarded myself with a donut on my way to work.