Living in ambiguity this past year has caused me to question just about everything. After the final results of Augie’s testicular biopsy, I stumbled across this quote by Joseph Campbell, “We must be willing to let go of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Throughout our infertility journey, Augie and I have become pretty immune to change. In the beginning, we were faced with the unknown. In my opinion, that’s been one of the scariest factors during this time. Along with the unknown comes waiting. I’ve also come to the realization that one of the most evident lessons learned from facing infertility is practicing patience. It is true that patience is indeed a virtue, but I’ve always struggled with it. I always thought I was in complete control of my life and the events that surround it. However, I am learning daily that this is the farthest thing from my personal reality.
I’ve written approximately three drafts of this blog post and I finally feel I have found the words to describe what we are facing and how I am feeling. Right after the start of the New Year, we had an appointment scheduled with Dr. Morris, the urologist that performed Augie’s testicular biopsy, to discuss the results. Between the actual procedure and the consultation, there were two painfully long weeks in between. Basically, during those weeks Augie and I prepared ourselves for all possibilities that the doctor could give us. During that time I felt like I was just going through the motions. My blinders were on and I had no sense of what was going on around me. I was zoned in on the possibilities of what awaited us in that small room filled with urinals and petroleum jelly. We felt we needed to be prepared for both outcomes. We knew there was a very high chance, 75% to be exact, that Dr. Morris was able to extract viable sperm from the procedure. These statistics gave Augie and I a sense of confidence that we’d be able to go through with the IVF process and become parents to a child that would be made up of both he and I. In my mind I had already envisioned what our kids would look like. On the other hand, we knew there was a 25% chance that there would be nothing there. Being that our luck hasn’t exactly been in our favor, we knew we had to prepare ourselves for this outcome as well. In my mind, I was planning the proceedings that would make up what Augie and I like to call our “Plan B.”
January 4th finally came around and we were, for lack of better terms, nervous as hell. Of course, in typical-doctor’s-office-fashion, we waited an hour in the waiting room before we were called back. All of the waiting led to a ten-minute conversation with the urologist. In those ten minutes, our biggest fear became a reality. Augie has a type of Azoospermia that is called maturation arrest, which means the seminiferous tubules contain spermatocytes (the beginning of what a sperm cell is made from), but no mature sperm (that makes babies) develops. Basically, there is the beginning stage of what looks like the development of sperm, but it never gets to the mature stages to form. Dr. Morris looked Augie in the eye and said, “Mr. Gonzales, you will never be able to father a biological child.” My first thought was to ask for a little bit of sympathy, but then again I remembered something I’d been silently asking for. Since my patience has been tested since the beginning and all I’ve wanted is direct answers, I’ve been thinking how much of a relief it would be to have someone just give Augie and I a straightforward answer. That is exactly what Dr. Morris did for us. After many questions and learning the specifics, Augie and I left the urologist office for the last time. We walked down the hallway in silence, but hand in hand. We got in the car and sat for minute letting the events of the morning sink in. Surprisingly neither one of us shed a tear. Here we were, sitting in our 4Runner faced with yet again another change. On the way home, it was Augie who finally spoke first. I could see the look of defeat in his eyes and hear the sadness in his voice. I’ve never been so thankful for Friday lunchtime traffic in Baton Rouge. We were able to discuss what our “Plan B” would consist of. We met our siblings for lunch since our stomachs couldn’t handle any substance before the appointment, just to be surrounded by unconditional love. Sharing the news with them was hard. I become emotional when I see how they hurt for us. We told them the basics of what we had learned less than an hour before, but Augie and I wanted to have more than just a 20-minute discussion in the car before answering everyone’s questions.
I wanted this blog post to serve as the answer to the million-dollar question: “What are you going to do next?” After some research and talking to couples that have faced this same decision, we have decided to pursue sperm donation. We feel as though this entire journey has given us time to grieve the loss of the plans we had to raise a biological child together; a child that is made up of both Augie and my DNA. Honestly, I am still grieving the loss of a lifelong dream. We feel confident in our decision, and I feel more at peace each day. We have been waiting so long for answers, so we feel like we are finally able to pick ourselves up, switch gears, and embrace this new journey. No, this is not the life I planned for myself, but I can honestly say I am excited for the future. Sure, it’s scary too, but I can’t help but to feel at peace. Again, we are willing to do whatever it takes to become parents. We have a scheduled consultation to meet with the new fertility doctor since Dr. Webster’s retirement began at the beginning of this year. We will bring him up to speed with our latest news, and I am confident he will be on board with decision. I still plan to fulfill this blog’s purpose by sharing the steps of our NEW journey along the way.
I’ve written approximately three drafts of this blog post and I finally feel I have found the words to describe what we are facing and how I am feeling. Right after the start of the New Year, we had an appointment scheduled with Dr. Morris, the urologist that performed Augie’s testicular biopsy, to discuss the results. Between the actual procedure and the consultation, there were two painfully long weeks in between. Basically, during those weeks Augie and I prepared ourselves for all possibilities that the doctor could give us. During that time I felt like I was just going through the motions. My blinders were on and I had no sense of what was going on around me. I was zoned in on the possibilities of what awaited us in that small room filled with urinals and petroleum jelly. We felt we needed to be prepared for both outcomes. We knew there was a very high chance, 75% to be exact, that Dr. Morris was able to extract viable sperm from the procedure. These statistics gave Augie and I a sense of confidence that we’d be able to go through with the IVF process and become parents to a child that would be made up of both he and I. In my mind I had already envisioned what our kids would look like. On the other hand, we knew there was a 25% chance that there would be nothing there. Being that our luck hasn’t exactly been in our favor, we knew we had to prepare ourselves for this outcome as well. In my mind, I was planning the proceedings that would make up what Augie and I like to call our “Plan B.”
January 4th finally came around and we were, for lack of better terms, nervous as hell. Of course, in typical-doctor’s-office-fashion, we waited an hour in the waiting room before we were called back. All of the waiting led to a ten-minute conversation with the urologist. In those ten minutes, our biggest fear became a reality. Augie has a type of Azoospermia that is called maturation arrest, which means the seminiferous tubules contain spermatocytes (the beginning of what a sperm cell is made from), but no mature sperm (that makes babies) develops. Basically, there is the beginning stage of what looks like the development of sperm, but it never gets to the mature stages to form. Dr. Morris looked Augie in the eye and said, “Mr. Gonzales, you will never be able to father a biological child.” My first thought was to ask for a little bit of sympathy, but then again I remembered something I’d been silently asking for. Since my patience has been tested since the beginning and all I’ve wanted is direct answers, I’ve been thinking how much of a relief it would be to have someone just give Augie and I a straightforward answer. That is exactly what Dr. Morris did for us. After many questions and learning the specifics, Augie and I left the urologist office for the last time. We walked down the hallway in silence, but hand in hand. We got in the car and sat for minute letting the events of the morning sink in. Surprisingly neither one of us shed a tear. Here we were, sitting in our 4Runner faced with yet again another change. On the way home, it was Augie who finally spoke first. I could see the look of defeat in his eyes and hear the sadness in his voice. I’ve never been so thankful for Friday lunchtime traffic in Baton Rouge. We were able to discuss what our “Plan B” would consist of. We met our siblings for lunch since our stomachs couldn’t handle any substance before the appointment, just to be surrounded by unconditional love. Sharing the news with them was hard. I become emotional when I see how they hurt for us. We told them the basics of what we had learned less than an hour before, but Augie and I wanted to have more than just a 20-minute discussion in the car before answering everyone’s questions.
I wanted this blog post to serve as the answer to the million-dollar question: “What are you going to do next?” After some research and talking to couples that have faced this same decision, we have decided to pursue sperm donation. We feel as though this entire journey has given us time to grieve the loss of the plans we had to raise a biological child together; a child that is made up of both Augie and my DNA. Honestly, I am still grieving the loss of a lifelong dream. We feel confident in our decision, and I feel more at peace each day. We have been waiting so long for answers, so we feel like we are finally able to pick ourselves up, switch gears, and embrace this new journey. No, this is not the life I planned for myself, but I can honestly say I am excited for the future. Sure, it’s scary too, but I can’t help but to feel at peace. Again, we are willing to do whatever it takes to become parents. We have a scheduled consultation to meet with the new fertility doctor since Dr. Webster’s retirement began at the beginning of this year. We will bring him up to speed with our latest news, and I am confident he will be on board with decision. I still plan to fulfill this blog’s purpose by sharing the steps of our NEW journey along the way.