Our Baby Bump...in the Road

As February comes to an end I can’t help but sigh with relief that nothing negatively life-altering has happened this month. ::knock on wood:: (There are still some hours left!) February has never been a good month for the Fricks. I dread its approach and am glad to see its departure. There are two days in this month that will forever be imprinted in my head:

February 10^th – the day my husband was diagnosed cancer at age 21.

and

February 29th – the day my sister-in-law got the same news at age 16.



Photos courtesy of JF Photography.

There is one more event that also happened on February 29th that I don't talk much about...a year ago we were diagnosed with infertility.

About this time last year we were sitting in a Swiss doctor's office and I had a paper in my hand with the results of Eddie's sperm tests. For probably the fifth time in my life I can say that I was completely blindsided and unable to comprehend information. I literally didn't understand the words the doctors were saying (even after they switched to English for me). I knew they were talking and I should probably listen for any important information...but I couldn't. I couldn't even politely pretend to be listening. It was all just background noise.

The paper was full of zeroes. Count, mobility, morphology, velocity, etc...all goose eggs. 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 - was all my eyes saw.

I remember learning about D-A-B-D-A (the stages of grieving) in nursing school and when I think back the "D-Denial" I felt was so textbook. 

Doctor - "There is no sperm."

My ears searched for the missing words. My brain tried telling me "No Rach, you misheard something, they actually said 'There is no (problem with the) sperm.'"

I also checked Eddie's name and birth date in the top corner of the paper at least 10 times. I tried telling myself that they probably mixed up the papers and names...but no. It was his and this was real.

Apparently the chemotherapy treatment had killed all his sperm...sometimes I like to use the word "nuked."

We had previously been trying for a few months and figured we should schedule another appointment for testing. Given Eddie's history, we didn't wait the whole one year of normal attempts and now I'm happy we didn't. Some weeks later we were called into the office to discuss the findings. They told us we only have one option. The good news is is that Eddie froze some "batches" pre-chemo (thank God) but the bad news is is the cancer had already started to affect the quality of the sperm. We were told that neither insemination (just squirting the sample in) nor IVF (in vitro fertilization - where they put both the egg and sperm in a dish and let them do their thing naturally) would work for us. Our only option is called ICSI. I know, I never heard of it before then either. It's where they have to directly insert the sperm into the egg and then place the fertilized egg back inside. We got information on that and they sent us on our way.

We were supposed to start last spring...but...our insurance denied us. Apparently because Eddie is not yet 25? (I'll talk more about the crazy international rules later.) Eddie handles all the insurance phone calls so I'm out of the loop but right now we are just counting the days until his birthday. Even then this procedure is not cheap...we're talking over ten grand...per attempt! And there are no guarantees. 

So now what? Well, it's in my genetic coding to cry and pray. So I do. I cry...often, at least a couple times a week. I actually have techniques on how/when to cry. For the loud ones I wail into pillows and I also found that my couch pillows stifle the cries the best. I no longer wipe my tears/nose with tissues/TP, instead I carry around an old kitchen/bath towel. As pathetic as it sounds, I figured out that it's harder for Eddie to catch me crying if I'm in the shower. Depending on where he is in the house I could close anywhere from 2-4 doors between us to drown out the sobs. If he came in, the tears would look like water and the red eyes could be from shampoo/soap? (He reads my posts so now he knows ::shrug::) I'm not strong. I feel very drained. I am thankful for our one possibility but I still lose it from time-to-time.

More confessions...

I hate IKEA (Yes, they have IKEA over here. It's actually Swedish). I avoid it because it seems to be the Mecca of all pregnant women and their adorable bellies.

I have a group on Facebook where I put all my pregnant friends (and their significant others) and I limit the updates I see from them. I genuinely wish each and every one of these ladies a happy, healthy remainder of their pregnancy but have I momentarily protected myself from a little bit more pain throughout my day? I like to think so. When I am in a funk, baby bump/ultra sound pics and weekly fruit/veggie comparison updates cause me physical ache. I hated stumbling across the occasional pregnancy complaint status - I'd give anything for swollen ankles and a sore back. When I'm having good days I'll go through them and update myself on the goings-on. There is still no way to predict the -"Ok, let's make it Facebook official! We're expecting another 'Buckeye' this fall!" 

As a believer in Christ and miracles I find myself torn between keeping up the faith and accepting reality. My God is capable of anything but if you had all those zeros staring you in the face, what would you think?
My grandma - "You never know, Rachel. God can make them grow again overnight! It only takes one!"
Yes, I know this but my brain can't help but think of the statistics of just one sperm making it to the egg. The doctors said that the sperm can come back anywhere between 5-10-15 years...but of course, we don't want to wait that long.

So what do I need? Love. Understanding. An open ear. An occasional shoulder to cry on. Empathy. Support.

What I don't need - Judgement. 99% of the advice thrown our way. 

Some examples are as follows-

"Tell Eddie to eat lots of beets." Um...no.

"Have you tried Clomid?" Um...I can pop pills 'til the cows come home but unless Clomid now contains Eddie's rejuvenated sperm and I have to insert it vaginally, I doubt it would help much.

"Just adopt." The word "just" doesn't really fit there as it is an equally stressing process. 

Some have also suggested this because of the history of cancer in the family or having a sperm donor. I love my husband and if possible I want his babies. Consider the blow to Eddie's ego if I were to say to him that I want donor before trying anything else. We'll tackle whatever comes our way.

A business acquaintance of Ed’s once told him that for 1,000 CHF he would get me pregnant. (?!?!?) Inappropriate! He should totally be willing to do it for free! ;) Jokes...jokes...jokes, I kid. But seriously, do I really need to remind people not to offer to knock up other people's wives?

Just say - "I'm sorry." or "That really sucks." or "I'll pray."

There is actually a website on help with what/what not to say to infertile couples called Infertility Etiquette. Educate yourselves and support your loved ones.

I'm sorry if this blog made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I hope no one thinks less of me because of the confessions. I wasn't sure about posting about this topic but we speak so openly about cancer diagnoses...why not this too? It's also a medical condition that is out of our control. Even though Eddie beat cancer...the residual effects still keep creeping into our lives.

Are you in love? Are you financially stable? Then make babies...and lots of them. All this other stuff just doesn't matter.

America vs. Germany

41.   Not much is open on Sundays in Germany, and stores close a lot earlier than they do in America. You can basically get whatever you want, whenever you want in America...and in most food cases, it can be delivered to you.

42.   Germany has a 19% sales tax. I'll type that again...19%! It makes you never want to complain about 5.5% in Ohio ever again. Granted, they have universal health care and free schooling...I am not sure which one is better. “The grass is always greener...” Also, the price you see is the price you pay, kinda like in PA. The clothing items are already taxed.

43.   Aldi originated in Germany. The Aldi brothers are actually two of the richest people in Germany.

44.   The German recycling system surpasses ours by far. I feel pathetic with how wasteful I was at home.

45.   The Germans are responsible for separating their own trash/recyclables. The house has multiple different trash cans- one for biological trash, one for paper, one for plastics, one for glass, and one for refundable bottles. Every so often they come and collect bigger household items. All the other recyclables must be brought to the recycling center...no just putting it out to the curb! Now what's your excuse for not recycling, spoiled Americans? ;)

46.   Eddie said his mother would be amazed at the FREE plastic bags we give out with our groceries. The quality of the bags is cheap and I found myself having too many of them. I told him to tell his mom that, if you ask, a young lad will even carry them to your car for you. Here you bring your own bags with you to the store. More environmentally friendly.

47.   Sadly, I see a lot more smokers in Germany...young and old. When I would pick up Eddie's sister from school, I would count the amount of teens that would walk out and immediately light up a cig. It averaged in the 20-30 range.


48.   Lunch is an important meal in Germany. You get about an hour lunch break and almost all the businesses close. Americans wouldn't have that for a minute. "Sorry, closed for lunch break." "What?!? Have someone cover for you while you are on break!" It does make for shorter work days, that's for sure. I even saw all the nurses taking a break in the hospital we visited. It left me wondering...who is tending to the patients?

49.   Breakfast food is different in Germany too. It consists of bread rolls, butter, cheese, and cold cuts. I think Ed prefers American breakfasts better but going out to breakfast in Germany is such a treat.

50.   December 6th is St. Nicholas Day where German children set their shoe out overnight and in the morning it is filled with candy. This is followed in other places too...i.e. my high school Spanish class. "Gracías Señorita Swindler!"