Well, I had quite a day yesterday. It was deposit day to see if Brian's swimmers are still swimming. I didn't think I would be worried about it, but now I am - because I have put too much thought into it.
Thought one: ever since becoming a parent it seems as if he has had a bullseye right over his most important parts. Little league, backyard piñata, tennis lessons - how much punishment can a man take before it stops working all together? Friday - the day before our appointment, I am in the backyard planting lettuce and all I hear is "Dad, you okay?" I get up and see Brian doubled over because where did the tennis ball go after being hit by my son's whiffle ball bat - you got it, right towards that invisible bullseye!
Thought two: Brian turned 40 a few months back. I am a few years older than he is - and when I turned 40 it seems like everything started going wonky. All I can picture in my mind is an illustrated picture of a sperm that looks freakishly similar to Mr. Magoo. Sorry, honey! I can't help the way my twisted mind works - it might be the stress!
There are more thoughts but those two were enough to rob me of my sleep last night.
Well, if I haven't scared you away with the visual of Mr. Magoo then let me share my experience of dropping his sample off at the Fertility clinic to get checked.
My sweet hubby was in no way going to the clinic to make his deposit. He talked me into taking it there for him. That was fine by me and it was okayed by the clinic receptionist - as long as it was there within an hour of making an appearance.
Well, I made the appointment at "our" clinic which is very close to our house but for some reason a few days before our drop off appointment we received a call changing our drop off to another location. Okay, fine with me. They gave me the address and assured me that if there was any problem to just call.
D-Day arrives and I take off to the clinic with the package hidden it the white paper bag that has been decorated with butterflies and rainbows. I know - you are thinking - what? but our daughter thought it was Dad's lunch bag (since it had his name on it) and decorated it the night before. Far be it for me to offer any other explanation and off I went with Daddies "lunch bag" to the fertility clinic.
Well this other location is a bit farther than our local clinic and time is of the essence so I knew I had to hurry. Guess what, no gas! Stop for a few minutes to put enough gas in my tank to get me there. Back on the road with still 25 minutes to go. I am starting to sweat! I know I am still okay on time but nothing else can happen.
We (the package and I) make it to the hospital where the clinic is supposed to be and after the third trip around the block I decide to park and go into the hospital. There should be a directory or someone who can tell me where to go, right? Nope! Apparently, nobody works in the hospital information booth on Saturday. I check the directory and there is nothing listed for this clinic. Well, I decide to call their phone number and guess what - their phones are forwarded to the answering service. Are you kidding? I explain to the poor woman on the other end of the phone I just need directions. Well, she can't help me - all she can do is take my information and page a doctor. Are you kidding again? Tick, tick, tick ---
She starts to take my information, name, date of birth, is this an emergency (YES!!!!) but not life threatening, (it could be if someone doesn't get me some gosh darn directions), phone number, "okay you should receive a call back within 20 minutes" - WHAT! Are you kidding - in 20 minutes all the fragile, little Mr. Magoo sperms will be 6 feet under and then we have to do this all over again in another 48+ hours. - UGH!!! Double UGH!
I hang up and start frantically walking around this surprisingly empty hospital. Aren't there any sick people in this part of town? That is when I spot a desk with a sign that says "Please Sign In - Someone Will Be With You In A Moment" great that means that someone will come to check and see if someone has signed in, right? Yes! In a few moments here comes this sweet woman with a clip board. She looked at me a little funny but I imagined that by then I might have looked a little frantic. Plus, I was holding a white paper baggie with butterflies and rainbows drawn on it.
I told her my issue - she looked at the baggie again (very differently this time) and told me to follow the hallway farther down to the security guard office and they could show me the way. A few minutes later I was in the fertility clinic. By the way they do have a sign - the receptions pointed out when I told her my story. I felt I shouldn't point out that it was the size of an 8x10 piece of paper and partially obscured by an azalea bush so it's kind of hard to read from the road which is 250 feet away, at least.
Well, the receptionist has me take a seat and in a few minutes I am saying goodbye to my little baggie. That is when all the thoughts start popping into my head. The final thought is what if I didn't make it in time and they look at his sperm and say it is not any good because of all the delays that occurred when I was trying to make my delivery. I guess we will find out tomorrow. Now onto another sleepless night with all my thoughts whirling around in my head.
By the way - I never did receive a call back from the doctor.
Throughout this whole process, the only thing that has really gotten me through is: No news is Good news, No news if Good news....... and venting and googling every other second.
ReplyDeleteFingers crossed for you guys. :)