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The desire to have a family had always been with me since my marriage in 1999. My wife Tracey, however, did not feel ready for this huge commitment. When the time came that both of us were ready to start trying, Tracey came off the pill and we both felt that it would only be a matter of time before we announced a pregnancy. In the first 6 months we were unsuccessful, and Tracey felt she should go to the doctors. Her main question was whether or not her irregular periods were affecting our chances. The doctor suggested that Tracey should try a course of Clomid, designed to make her more fertile. We were told that if she wasn’t pregnant within six months we were to return to see him.

By this stage my emotions were shattered, as I secretly knew that the problem was with me. A number of different factors had led me to this conclusion. As a youngster I took up smoking and during my late teens was consuming 20-30 cigarettes a day. I was also taking chances with my girlfriend at this time. Despite this gamble she had never fallen pregnant (lucky for me!). I could not discuss my concerns with Tracey because it was very personal to me.

The doctor’s investigation moved on to me, as Tracey had not fallen pregnant during her course of Clomid. My first sample came back to the doctors with no result, as the quantity for analysis was not enough. My second sample was however conclusive. There were no sperm either alive or dead in my semen. The World for that brief moment had collapsed around me. It wasn’t long before reality struck and my first response was to consider divorcing Tracey as I felt less of a man. This would at least allow my wife some time to find a new husband who could give her a natural child. This in my eyes, was something I was never going to achieve. The discussion I had with Tracey then focussed on whether we should adopt or remain childless as my wife did not want a divorce. A conclusion was never reached. Tracey remained hopeful that there must be another course of action that we could pursue and her search on the Internet came up trumps. It was only then we found out about sperm retrieval and a process called ICSI. This at last gave up some hope and we contacted what we thought to be our nearest hospital in Manchester that did this procedure. In my eyes this was it, the only chance of Tracey and I having a child.

Both Tracey and I had a consultation in Manchester in which they focussed on the possibility of retrieving sperm. A critical piece of information the consultant required was a FSH level, which came back normal. I had also had a physical examination, which the consultant was extremely positive about, as my testes were of normal size and firm. Emotionally I had lifted considerably and felt regardless of cost this was a breakthrough. Obviously I still had to consider what would happen if this process was unsuccessful, however, did not want to discuss the consequences.

The run up to the sperm retrieval was nerve racking as by this stage we still did not know definitely if there were, or were not, healthy sperm available. If anybody reading this is going through the same investigation I will let the doctors explain to you what it involves. It sounds brutal and painful but quite frankly the greatest feeling in the World is when the consultant returns to your room to inform you of the success of the operation.

Tracey is about to start the course of injections to allow for egg retrieval to take place. My main focus now is that nothing interferes with our chances of success.

This passage has been a brief outline of the emotions I have gone through over the last 18 months. Every day has led to new thoughts and fears and has always been at the forefront of my mind. I only wish that more men would discuss this problem more openly as this would ease the emotional turmoil.

Tracey and John’s first ICSI cycle did not result in pregnancy and they are about to begin a fresh cycle at CARE in Manchester.
Sam MacCuish
Cradle Editor