What a Week...

That night we argued. After lengthy conversations about our thoughts and opinions, it was clear that no matter how much support or encouragement I offered Joey was going to beat himself up. He had decided that if it wasn't for him I'd already be pregnant, forgetting that it was only because of him that I wanted children, his children. He even told me that he'd understand if I wanted to divorce him and find a more suitable husband! I had to try so hard not to slap him that I sat stunned, in silence, for hours. Pondering what life would be like without children, it wasn't possible, was it possible? Do people survive this kind of news? What about when we're old? We'll be lonely. Relying on relatives for company. It's ok, we have each other. We'll always have each other. Life without children is manageable, but life without Joey was unthinkable, not worth contemplating. That's it, if no children means a lifetime with Joey then so be it.
My intuition was telling me that this was nuts. Of course we'll have children. This is insane. When I look into the future there are children there!? Our children...


Joey had decided to take himself off upstairs, claiming that his cold had made him tired, but I knew he wasn't up for talking about this anymore. He wanted to wallow in self pity, he does it so well, and besides, he needed time to beat himself up and leave the wounds clear for me to heal.
I sat downstairs trying rationalise the news, understand what ICSI was, the process, the difference between that and IVF. I'd skipped that section of the fertility booklets and websites before, as I never thought we'd need to know about it.
I cried, lots, and then some more. I couldn't tell anyone. It wasn't my news to tell, was it? Joey would be devastated if I did. Even the online forums don't offer this level of support, but at least you're anonymous. Something that both Joey and I had decided long ago would be our priority. 
I didn't want people offering us sympathy and he summarised it as "We wouldn't be telling people that we were about to have sex, so why would we tell them we were trying for a baby? It's none of their business, they don't want to know and I don't want them to know." I agreed.
I went upstairs to check whether he wanted any food, he didn't, he was still wallowing. If only he were a pig in mud, at least he'd be smiling.
I tried to reason with him, but it was useless. He wanted my attention but was pushing me away. He knew I was there, he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't stop it.
After a few hours, he came down stairs. I forget what happened, but it resulted in me shouting (I'm the shouter apparently) and throwing a cup (that was a first) into the sink, which impressively smashed the cup it landed on. I was too angry to marvel at my accomplishment, I just grabbed by coat and keys and went on a 'calm me down drive'.
I found myself sat in the local services reading a trashy gossip magazine, ignoring his calls and texts of concern. He'd forgotten about me earlier, why does he care all of a sudden, I thought.
He knew he'd upset me beyond anything he'd known before, I mean, I don't smash my own mugs... I'd maybe bang a cupboard door or storm about the house tidying (I think he's on to that one, I must stop that!) but never throw things, especially my cups!
We finally exchanged our sides of the story via text and I drove home. We made our peace and returned to our loving selves, which was so overdue by the time we got to bed.


The next day things still appeared raw, but a little bit more manageable. We had decided that 'whatever it takes' we will create our family. Our children deserve strong minded (and a little stubborn) parents who are prepared to fight for their existence. We agreed to contact the DuoFertility team and ask for their advice, and then contact the clinic and arrange our nurse consultation appointment.
DuoFertility took a short while to respond, so we decided to make our appointment regardless. By some stroke of luck a cancellation appointment had come up for next week. "Book it" I told Joey.
The next day DuoFertility agreed with what the consultant had advised based on Joey's results and asked us to keep them informed.


Throughout the rest of the week, we had numerous conversations about the pros and cons and I attended a lecture on sub-fertility, which is what we had been diagnosed with, not infertility. It was very helpful, but I admit that the amount of drugs left me feeling quite anxious.
Joey hated knowing what I would have to go through as a result of his condition.


We tried to get through the week as normal as possible, with one of us occasionally telling the other 'Whatever it takes!'... 


And so.... Whatever it takes!