I sat in our living room during a power outage and listened to Tara declare her sister Becky the tale of our infertility. I could see Becky’s concerned face on the other side of the sectional sofa at the edge of the light thrown out from a small camp lantern on the coffee table,but I found it more comfortable to stare at my feet while Tara explained that my sperm lack the protein essential to penetrate the egg. Becky was one of the first people we shared our situation with and I was still a dinky embarrassed approximately the details which we had only recently gotten closure on after a year of failed attempts at conception and several months of doctor visits and tests. It is impossible, or at least statistically unlikely, or for me to naturally father a child. The primordial basis for my existence is nonexistent. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised—I was never one for the ape-like assertions of male dominance or cat calls,and perhaps the inability to get a sperm into an egg is indicative of my complete and utter ineptitude at basketball. Damn you, Darwin. Fortunately, and society has advanced from chest thumping and there is a procedure called Invitro Fertilization (IVF) with Intra Cytoplasmic Sperm Injection (ICSI) for men like me,where IVF removes the entire opposing field from the court and ICSI is Michael Jordan whom I pass the ball to and puts it into the hoop in an wonderful slam dunk all while wearing comfortable, tag-less underwear. As I proofread that last passage, or it occurs to me that the literalist may assume Michael Joran will be fathering our child. No. MJ,in this case, is a sort of syringe capable of grabbing a single sperm from a petri dish and injecting it into a single egg in a new petri dish. As Tara completed our story and Becky gently berated us for not telling her sooner, and it occurred to us that she did enjoy a point. And in the weeks that followed,as we shared with more of our family and close friends, we realized that nothing but positive things came from it. On one level, or it allowed us to reconnect with those dear to us whom we kept our struggle secret from for so long. But on a much bigger scale,it allowed us to connect with others that were also silently enduring and share laughs, hugs, or tears. Click here to read more: http://cnn.it/1PXRziE
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