[wannabe dad] Brian's perspective on finding acceptance & moving forward
Hey #wannabemom followers, Brian here. On this episode of "Brian Hacks Teri's Blog," I'm going to tell you about the months after my surgery, the struggles I experienced and the ultimate #adultdecision we had to start thinking about.
After my surgery in August, the next couple months were rough for me mentally (which I hid most of the time) and physically.
I had a difficult time accepting that I couldn't do what I should be able to do as a man and give my wife a child
I had a hard time coming to terms with the fact I wouldn't be able to pass along the Morgan family genes, like my *stunning* good looks and witty humor
I had a hard time dealing with the fact that I was #broken
Luckily for me, I have a rockstar wife that was there for me whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on. I also have some pretty awesome friends that I leaned on a few times as well.
The physical recovery took much longer than I expected. I didn't feel back to normal for over two months after surgery. Every little bump, nudge or rub felt like I had been kicked in the groin by a horse.
Today, I am 100% back to normal and feel no physical pain from the surgery.
It was time to starting asking the hard questions.
What do we do next?
How are we going to pay for it?
What happens if we don't agree on a decision?
Should we adopt?
Should we go the donor sperm route?
Do we ask one of our friends if we can buy one of their kids? (just kidding😆)
For me, the decision came easy. For my wife, not so much.
I knew in my heart that if I couldn't pass down my genes, I at least wanted our future children to have my beautiful wife's DNA––her huge heart, soft smile, funny sense of humor and absolute intelligence (she was salutatorian, you know).
I also want Teri to have the opportunity to carry a child. Since she has zero issues according to all the tests, I want to experience pregnancy with my wife. I want to experience the miracle of child birth.
I'm an "it is what it is" kind of guy. I don't see much gray area––it's either black or white. While this is definitely one of the biggest decisions I've ever had to come to terms with, I knew in my heart that all the other roads were closed and the donor sperm route was the only highway home.
Teri and I are the perfect fit–while we are opposite in so many ways, we truly complete each other with our differences.
I was able to come to a decision easier (and faster) than she did. She struggled much more than I did with the results of my surgery. I can't even begin to tell you how many tears she shed or how many times she asked God #why?
If you know my wife, you know her heart. It's giant. It's kind. It's tender. It's merciful. And because of her heart, my wife feels much harder than I do.
She battled through the treacherous what ifs:
"What if we go donor route and he's a bad person?"
"What if he is a rapist?"
"What if he is serial killer?"
"What if he doesn't look anything like you?"
"What if our future children want to meet him one day?"
If there was a "what if", my wife was thinking it. She also struggled with he fact that if we go the donor route, she would have to have someone else's sperm inserted inside of her. Someone we would only know as a donor number. Someone we would never even be able to meet.
A complete stranger.
While I was ready to make this decision, Teri still needed time.
So, after her FDA-required bloodwork, we decided to take a little break on this #journeytoparenthood. Everyone grieves differently, and she still needed to wrap her mind around our new reality. So I knew I had to be patient. I had to give her some space to grieve. I had to give her time to process everything we had been through thus far, and all the unknown of what was to come.