This Was Not How It Was Meant To Be

As my wife gave into the drugs and quickly fell asleep, like drawing a sword he drew the biggest needle you have ever seen.  Bloody hell, that wasn’t explained to us, you can’t help but feel so helpless as the one you love is violated with such a cruel instrument.  Your intellect knows it’s got to be done, but your emotions run high, you are built to protect, but here you sit watching helpless. It gets worse with every moan she lets out as he puts that needle in deeper searching for those elusive follicles.  All you can do is hold her hand and not cringe as her grip tightens to something you have never felt before.

For most people what we are experiencing should be performed behind the closed door of a bedroom. I should be hearing the soft moans of pleasure; instead all I can hear is the Dr and technician exchanging test tubes.  I should be looking into the eye of my loved one instead I’m looking at a wall, trying not to look at anyone.  We should be alone behind that bedroom door, but we are not.  I should hear the seductive rhythm of her breath; all I can here is the beeping of the heart monitor.

Then it is over, I can’t remember how many eggs were harvested; I think I have a kind of PTSD.

Then the nurse in her Irish accent says “Its your turn”. I can remember the fear, it was real, I could feel it like a lead overcoat. “Go up to the next level look for the Andrology dept. and tell them your name.”  I had visions of a large reception area, with a waiting room and ‘the rooms’ would be hidden away deep in the department. What I found was far from that.  I followed the signs to the narrowest corridor I have ever experienced, walking up to a hole in the wall in the corridor I found the ‘Andrology’ dept, it is not meant to be like this.

I was given a sample jar and a key; the technician then tells me that I’m in the room behind me. “There is only one key so you can feel secure that once locked no-one else will enter”, she said. “There is scotch in the cupboard and magazines in the draw, wash your hands before you start and do not get any other liquid in the sample jar”.  In a daze I turned, opened the door and stepped inside, then the reality of my situation dawned on me. Lock the door, lock the door, I thought.

I looked around the room; it was only around 2.3m square with a hospital flick tap sink, a recliner and a small cupboard.  The floor coving went 6 inches up the wall, making me think they could hose it out like some seedy nightclub.  I open the cupboard, that held what someone thought would be the best tools to ‘assist’. We were driving home after this, so scotch was out of the question and besides, I still couldn’t face it after my bucks night all those years ago.

It was then I heard voices, coming from outside in the corridor, for fuck sake, how the hell am I supposed to do this with people only a few feet away.  I reached for the recliner, as it moved it squeaked, could it get any worse.

The gravity of my situation was not lost on me, the pressure had been building for weeks, hormonal drug stimulation, the egg harvest I had witnessed, all came to this point right here.

Instead of an exciting experience in the back of the car in a secluded spot over looking the ocean or an afternoon quickie on the kitchen table, I was here; it was not meant to be like this.

I washed my hands

There were obviously many other rooms, as another conversation just like mine was being had only feet away.  “I’m not sitting in the squeaky chair, I’ll have to stand,” I said to myself, all I could think of was, it was not meant to be like this.

It got worse, the pressure and anxiety took its toll, what is so easy in the comfort of your own home, takes on a whole new perspective, I felt like I was a failure, but I couldn’t let my girl down all our dreams relied on me and this moment.  After what seemed like hours, a few tears, rest breaks and cramp, I completed my task. I tried my best to compose myself as I would have to go back down to the ward and sit with my girl, I failed in this too.

As I walked up to the bed my wife was chatting with our nurse, they both look up and begin to laugh, it was not meant to be like this.