On the starting blocks

After much urging, my husband finally agreed to have his sperm tested. He was resistant to start with - not because he didn't think it was worthwhile doing, it was just the process of doing it. It meant working from home, getting to the clinic at a specific time to drop it off and keeping it warm in his pocket on the journey. But, finally, the deed was done. 


He called for the results while we were sitting at a pub waiting for our meals to be delivered. The secretary told him he needed to speak to the doctor. This look of worry passed over his face and I held his hand as the same worry passed through mine. After what seemed a lifetime, the doctor finally got on the phone. 


Everything was fine. He has "active swimmers" and the doctor told him to keep doing exactly what he was doing. A smile passed over his face and I let go of his hand and held it instead. He said "Don't get too close baby. I'm potent." I burst out laughing!


It was a huge relief. We hadn't really spoken about what our options would be if there was a problem. Our one conversation hinged on having to go to a sperm bank. It wasn't an option he had considered and didn't really want to think about. But the reality is he is 44. Just like the possibility of my eggs being pickled, there was the possibility that his swimmers would be doing backstroke instead of freestyle. Luckily, he now believes he's now in the race for a fertility gold medal! So now, we're on the starting blocks and hoping for no false starts!