Brian and Mandy’s story: still waiting for the 2nd line… (Male Factor Infertility)

My husband Brian and I met when I was a fresh-faced college sophomore and he was a young professional. It was love at first sight.

We talked a lot about our future family: 1 boy and 1 girl, perhaps a few more. We picked out names and talked about our timeline. I wanted to be a young mom. When I was 21 years old we decided it was time to begin our family. I was just about to finish my masters’ degree, and Brian was secure in his job; everything was falling into place.

We began trying to conceive the “old fashioned way” in the fall. Naive as I was, I decided to buy Christmas gifts for all the grandparents, from their future grandchild. I was so certain that we would be pregnant before Christmas--and what a great way to tell our parents we were expecting!!

December 2003: No bun in the oven
Three months and NO BABY!! What?!?!? Thank goodness Brian had convinced me to keep the grandparent gifts, just in case.

I distinctly remember the arrival of great Ant Flo each month—and couldn’t help but start to feel there was something wrong. The tears of frustration we cried every month were unbearable; if we only knew the journey was just beginning.

February 2004: Just deposit your sample in this cup, sir...
On a routine doctor visit for Brian, I casually mentioned to our primary care physician that we had been trying to conceive for nearly a year. After saying that we're young and it will probably happen soon, the Dr. decided to order a semen analysis, just to be on the safe side. He explained that the tests for female infertility are much more extensive, so it would be wise to get the male tests over with.

We went home with our very own brown paper bag and sterile plastic cup--how exciting!

The next day, we received a call from the nurse. While this was over three years ago, I remember it like yesterday. We were walking into the Home Depot (of course), when Brian's cell phone rang. He said, "it's the clinic". A few years later, those simple words would be enough to send me into a complete panic attack. At this point, however, it was just another routine visit--we weren't expecting anything dramatic.

As I watched Brian's face crumple up in confusion, I knew something was wrong. Little did I know what was going on on the other end of the phone. The nurse asked him: "Did you have a vasectomy?". Brian replied, "no...". "Well, your semen analysis showed zero sperm".

At that point, all that registered was shock and confusion. It had to be some sort of mistake! Brian has never had a sick day in his life...this wasn't supposed to happen to us!

February 2004-February 2005: We have no idea what's wrong with you...

The next year consisted of visit upon visit to our local urologist (who is absolutely amazing, by the way), more semen analyses, prostate exams, cat scans, blood draws, and other humiliating experiences for my dear husband.

When our local doctor decided it was beyond his level of expertise, he sent us to the Mayo Clinic. We thought: well, if they can't figure it out there, this is a true medical mystery! Apparently Brian is quite the man, because he left even the Mayo physician baffled.

After a few months break, we received a referral from our urologist to another well-known clinic. This time, the doctor took the time to really explore what might be happening. Because of Brian's Jewish background, he decided it would be wise to order genetic testing for the cystic fibrosis gene...BINGO! All because of a little recessive gene in Brian's system, he does not have full vas defrens (the tubes that run from the testicles to the end of the penis). In other words, he has sperm, they just can't get out!!

The doctor told us our only chance of having biological children would be to do In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) with ICSI (intracytoplasmic sperm injection). Unfortunately, we couldn’t afford it at the time.

Reluctantly, we took a break...

August 2006: IVF #1
After scrounging for money, selling all of our valuable posessions, and taking out a loan from our local bank--we had enough money to do a round of IVF. Unfortunately, our insurance doesn't cover IVF/ICSI or the medications associated with it. We happen to have a very good health insurance plan with great benefits…but infertility treatments are not included. This came out to be approximately $15,000 out of pocket. We're not poor, but who can afford that?!?

Brian had to have sperm surgically removed from his testicles (not a very nice procedure), and I had to endure weeks of shots and pills...that tended to make me bloated, emotional, and crabby. My belly and butt looked like a pin cushion--black and blue--for weeks! It was all worth it, though--for the chance to have a family of our own.

The doctors retrieved 15 eggs, 12 of which fertilized, 9 fertilized normally. After three days of incubation, the embryos (our babies!!) were ready to go back in. Because of my young age and no apparent reproductive problems, we decided to only transfer 2 embryos. We were both so happy that day--we had every reason to believe that this was the start of the family we had always wanted.

The next two weeks were emotional: waiting, hoping, wondering. We got a picture of our beautiful little embryos. I put them in a frame I had bought for the nursery.

I kissed them goodnight before bed, and talked to them throughout the day. I remember rubbing my belly and whispering: "please hang on little guys or girls...your mommy and daddy want so badly to meet you".

During this time, Brian and I had done a few home pregnancy tests. They all came up negative.

The morning of the blood draw, we were still cautiously optimistic. We're good people...we love each other, we do good things--how could we NOT get pregnant?

Early in the afternoon, we received a call from our doctor. Brian put the phone on speaker so we could both listen. It's amazing how so many hopes and dreams can be lost in a moment. She told us that the pregnancy test had come back negative.

I can't even begin to explain the emotions I felt at that time...anger, confusion, sadness, helplessness. I felt like I had let Brian down, I had let our beautiful little embryos down. We cried and held each other for hours. I've never felt so sad, yet so close to someone at the same time.

We couldn't face another cycle right away (emotionally or financially), so we reluctantly packed up our drugs, tried to forget about babies, pills, pregnancy...and attempted to get back to our old life.

Late January 2007: IVF #2
After 5 months, many conversations, and a trip to the adoption agency...we decided to put absolutely every last cent (and then some) into one last try at IVF. Fortunately, we had 4 frozen embryos--so the process would be (a little) less expensive.

The shots and exams went much easier the second time around; we knew what to expect. At times we felt like quite the pros! Our doctors were incredibly optimistic...they assured us that the last time was just plain bad luck.

Throughout the 2nd cycle we kept a video diary. We talked to our embryos...we told them how much they meant to us, and how we couldn't wait to welcome them into the world in 9 months.

We went into the second transfer with completely open hearts--we weren't going to let the tragedy of the 1st cycle affect the 2nd. Everything went very well, we transferred 2 embryos (2 didn't survive the thaw). Again, the next two weeks were a living hell.

I went into the blood draw thinking it was just a formality...I felt pregnant! I knew this was the time!! Unlike the first time with my nerves and hesitation, this time I was absolutely sure we would get a good result.

I had planned to turn the camcorder on in order to catch the results; but the doctor called much earlier than expected. It HAD to be good news!! Again, Brian put the phone on speaker. I could tell from the moment I heard her voice that we had struck out yet again. All I remember hearing was "I'm so sorry guys...". I stumbled out of the room and collapsed into a sobbing mess on the floor. I couldn't think clearly. I remember hearing these awful moans and wondering where they were coming from--until I realized they were coming from me.

Those next few days were some of the worst of my life. Infertility forces you to mourn a child (or children), that you've never had a chance to meet. I was attached to those embryos in so many ways. I had so many hopes for them. That negative test was, to me, like going through the death of a child. Except you don't have the support: the sympathetic family and friends, a funeral, a grieving process. All you have are your ruined dreams and a lot of tears.

I am so thankful I have such a wonderful husband. There is absolutely no way I could have gotten through those first few weeks without him. Just knowing he was there, knew what I was feeling, and willing to talk meant so much to me.

March 2007: A ray of hope

A few weeks after our negative test, we went to the Family Building Conferece, put on by the Midwest Region of RESOLVE http://www.resolve.org/ . We went to the conference hoping to win one of the IVF cycles they were giving away. We didn't win; but we came back with so much hope!

We met a urologist who said he may be able to surgically correct Brian's condition! To us, the ability to be able to conceive naturally would be worth a million IVF cycles!

July 2007: Surgery

After the initial consultations, the big surgery day came quick. We told ourselves we were prepared for whatever outcome. If it works, we would start IUI with Brians sperm. If it doesn't, we would do the same with donor sperm (DS).

After 7 LONG hours in the operating room, the surgeon came to talk to me. He said he did everything he could, there were just too many blockages and missing links. It was completely unreconstructable. I told myself I wouldn't cry. We knew our odds weren't great. I couldn't help it: this was truly the absolute last opportunity we had to have biological children. It was a dream I was not prepared to let go--it had to be ripped from me.

Brian's recovery was long and painful. The healing process didn't give me a lot of time to think, thank goodness--or I would have been even more of a wreck.

Late July 2007: Break out the sperm catalog

I'm not sure who brought it up first, but we started discussing donor sperm (DS) again. While it was painful to have to move in that direction, we both agreed we didn't want to wait any longer to start our family.

Selecting a sperm donor is something I never thought I could do: how do you replace your husband? In my eyes, no one will ever compare to the amazing man I married.

Throughout this whole process we have lost a lot of time, money, and tears…but other things have gotten stronger: such as our love for each other. We have made so many sacrifices these last few years. One day, it will all pay off. The one thing we can’t afford to lose is hope.

A lot can happen in 4 ½ years. Friends of ours have gotten married and had several children. We’ve watched infants grow into toddlers and into Kindergarteners. Had we been successful in our first attempts, our child would be 4 years old. He or she would be in preschool, walking and talking…being able to say “I love you mom and dad”…instead, we have an empty nursery, waiting for the day when we finally get that second line.