September 11th and my infertility journey.

On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I was sitting at home reading a book and enjoying a cup of coffee. Normally, I would be at work. But on that day, my husband had an appointment scheduled with a urologist to take a look at his manly bits. This look-see would involve some anesthesia, so my hubby would need a ride back. The reason my hubby was getting the procedure done was because we were trying to take our fertility under our control. After more than a year of trying on our own, we still hadn't gotten pregnant, so we each went to our separate doctors. My husband's recommended a urologist, and a sperm test. The results were, in a word, dire...plus my husband was feeling pain, so a poke under the hood was scheduled. Unfortunately for my dh, this did not involve a simple wanding with a dildo cam.

So there I was, sitting with my cup of coffee. My husband's urologist had scheduled his procedure on a day where he was lecturing at a conference. Obviously, he had to re schedule. My husband's employer is incredibly flexible about taking time off. Mine wasn't. In 2001 I worked at a living history museum. There were dozens of exhibits, all of them manned by a well trained person. To get a day of in September was murder. I had to find someone who could cover my exhibit who would know what he/she was doing, and who was willing to give up a day off. In the end it required one person coming in on her day off and working for someone in her exhibit so the other person could work mine. Crazy stuff. When the doctor's secretary called my husband to cancel, my husband shrugged and said "whatever". I, however, pulled my hair out and screamed "Are you fucking kidding me?!?" My husband, went to work. And I took my two hard won days off, fuming because I knew I would have to do it all over again in October, one of the museum's busiest months.

I drank my coffee in a dark and stormy mood. The morning was as beautiful as you can get in Connecticut. My husband and I were married in September on the 21st in 1996. In less than 2 weeks we would be celebrating our 5th anniversary. The day we were married had been as beautiful and sunny as that September 11th day. My husband and I rarely got to spend much time together. In fact, we had spent most of the last year apart since he was on a long term travel assignment for work. I had been looking forward to spending the two days off with him, even if one day was going to be spent in a doctor's office and the other tending to my husband and his wounded bits. When I found out the procedure was cancelled, I assumed he would spend those days with me doing something fun, especially on a day that reminded me so much of our wedding day. I felt cheated. And I also felt angry. We couldn't get pregnant, and it looked like my husband may be the problem, and he didn't seem to care a bit. I didn't know what the next step would be, but the word 'IVF' had been hinted at by the urologist, and I was scared shitless.

So I half read my book and half thought about what my future was going to be. Then the phone rang. It was my husband telling me to turn the TV on. A plane had flown into one of the twin towers in NY city. I turned it on to see footage of the tower smoking and people running. Then out of the beautiful blue sky another plane flew in. I think I screamed over the phone, and I could hear my husband repeating what I said to his co workers. Then we hung up. He would continue to call for updates as I sat in my pajamas for the rest of the day glued to the television set.

My husband didn't come home until very late. Highways were shut down and my husband works for a military contractor and everyone was on high alert. When he finally came home I threw myself into his arms, just so grateful that he was home and alive.

As it turned out we did spend the next day together. Dh's work site was in lock down and everyone was home. My hubby's procedure was delayed, and delayed again as elective procedures were cancelled everywhere because of blood shortages because of 9/11. But I had learned a valuable lesson. Whether we had children or not, we had each other, and that made everything else possible.