I feel like I've just been reliably informed that I'm colorblind, or that I was born on the moon, or that I've always spelled my name wrong. That up is down, and why have you been traipsing across the ceiling all this time, leaving footprints on the plaster?
The thing is this: I may not be infertile. Man, it's even stranger in writing than it is in my head.
The other thing is this: It doesn't really matter.
You see, after a week and a half of long-awaited, and entirely satisfactory, testing--day 3 bloodwork, pelvic and trans-vag ultrasounds, an HSG--we got something else.
J's semen analysis results.
I had not really given the SA much thought, just another test to tick off on our list; a slightly uncomfortable check box with antique porn and paneled cubicles. No, as the doctor asked three times, J. has never fathered any children that he's aware of. Then again, except with me, he hasn't really had much opportunity. I mean, almost no opportunity at all. As in, I look like a Tenderloin street ho next to him. Which, I guess, is part of the reason it never occurred to me that the problem might lie within him: I'm the one with "a past" (sounds sort of romantic, like Barbara Stanwyck in a noir pic, but you know what I mean). I lived a very full life for the twenty-seven years before we met, with all that that entailed. Which was, well, a lot.
J., though? Eagle Scout. Honest to god. And his conquests (or his conquerors) can be tallied on one hand, with a lovely opposable thumb left over. No health problems, no drug use, no STD's, nothing but decades of exercise, sun block and green, leafy vegetables.
So when the call came, I was utterly unprepared. And when I heard the doctor say "abnormal morph count," it almost didn't register. Abnormal? J? How...impossible.
For an hour or so, I sat, dumbfounded, as the implications sank in: 1) There's a problem with J. 2) There may not be a problem with me.
And, 3) It doesn't really matter.
It may change the route by which we proceed down the infernal, infertile road. But the bigger picture hasn't really changed, it's just more inclusive: We are infertile. We.