That’s dedication, laydeez (IYKWIM)
In 2008, after two years of failing to make a child organically, we learned the doom Kathy had already been feeling for more than a year was justified: I was diagnosed with male-factor infertility. Our only real chance to move forward would be in vitro fertilization. We couldn’t afford it; we couldn’t afford not to do it. One way we tried to work through that diagnosis, our anger, and our options was to start a secret infertility blog, “Less Than a Million.” This post and what comments from 2008 that are attached to it come from that blog.—gb
Wearing a coat that made me look like a Michelin man, I stepped out of our apartment into the blustery night. The wind chill was –16 degrees Fahrenheit. As if in pain, the car squealed when I turned the key. My breath turned to crystals on the windshield. Snow was drifting from the roof of the K-Mart as I pulled into the parking lot, and it hit me square in the face, temporarily blinding me as I ran to the door. Inside, I walked to the pharmacy, looking for the box. Not generic, not digital—there! I handed the box to the young woman at the checkout stand. She grabbed it to pass it over the scanner, but I saw her hesitate. Did she realize how much I had sacrificed to come to this moment? Did she marvel at the person who stood in front of her? I don’t know. I do know she asked whether I wanted the receipt in the bag. As I left I may have heard her exclaim, “There goes a shameless man!” But I didn’t dwell on it. I was headed back out into the bitter night, ovulation predictor kit in hand.
