[wannabe dad] One year surgiversary... & the struggles that I face
Hey ya'll👋, wannabe dad here...I've hijacked the blog for a special, therapeutic writing session. This has been a tough week for me and I thought it was best to take a page from my gorgeous bride's book and write about my feelings.
We appreciate you all so much. I just want to say thanks for letting US cry on your shoulders throughout this journey.
August 13, 2020...
a day that changed my (and Teri's) life forever.
The day I lost a piece of my soul.
The day I have been grieving about for 365 days now...
The day I found out I cannot have biological children.
I still remember it like it was yesterday––it was truly the worst day of my life.
For the past year, I have experienced feelings that I have never had to deal with over my short 37 year life. I cry watching movies or tv shows that typically wouldn't have affected me prior to August 13, 2020.
Now, I should clarify that I am not talking about dog movies––those have made me cry forever...I'm talking about movies with babies and kids...TV shows that show other couples fighting the same fight my wife and I are. I cried watching the show sMothered on TLC...if you don't know what that show is, it's addicting and disturbing all at once.
I feel depressed more often than I like to admit.
I've had days where I physically and mentally cannot function.
I get triggered when I see pregnancy announcements or hear people talk about their kids.
I get sad seeing fathers and sons and how similar they are to one another.
I've gained an embarrassing amount of weight because I am an emotional eater (and damn, can my wife bake some badass chocolate chip cookies!).
365 days ago I went to University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics for an extremely scary surgery to extract sperm from my testicles (you can read all about my TESE surgery here). I had 100% confidence that it would be successful and they would find all the little Bam Bam swimmers we needed.
But, they didn't.
I can't help but think that maybe if I would've prepared for the worst instead of expecting the best...maybe the last 365 days wouldn't have been so hard.
Maybe I wouldn't have been so sad and depressed or gained as much weight. Maybe I could have been stronger for my grieving wife––because she also experienced the shattering of a dream that day.
If I am being completely honest, this has been a year FULL of heartbreak. And one year after learning we will never have biological children, it is still tough to accept this as our reality.
I wouldn't wish infertility on anyone, not even Cyclone fans. Infertility is a constant itch you can't scratch and a constant pain you cannot heal from.
For people with big hearts like my super hot wife and me, infertility is so emotionally and physically draining on us.
Since this blog is all about honesty, I'm going to give it to you straight. Teri and I have spent the better part of the last year protecting our hearts. We've isolated ourselves. We've avoided hanging out with friends/family who have kids or little ones on the way...because it has been just too difficult and sends one or both of us into a tailspin of sadness and depression.
It hits us hard–real hard.
We know that one day, regardless of the method, we will be parents.
We know that someday our kids, though they won't look like me (luckily for them), will be little shits just like me.
We know that DNA doesn't make you love your kids any more or any less.
We know that God has our backs and will walk us through this difficult time...I wish I was in better shape though so we could just sprint and get to the finish line already.
We know our friends and family (we have an amazing support system) are there for us always.
We know that this pain is only temporary.
But dammit, it doesn't make it any easier.
One thing is certain––there is a light at the end of the tunnel, a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, a miracle waiting to happen.
And my amazing wife and I will be right there by each other's side for the entire journey...loving each other a little more everyday––because that part is easy for us.
Today will be tough...today I will cry...today I will grieve...
And tomorrow will be better.