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Connie, thanks for everything in helping us to have a child. My therapists and drivers, thank you for getting me to therapy and teaching me some new workouts and workarounds. All my friends and family, thanks for accepting me as I am now and making me feel kind of normal.
Or at least I used to. It was a family business, so I grew into it slowly. My dad was a machinist for as long as I could remember, managing a plant that re-manufactured railroad parts. He started me out mowing the front lawn, and I would come in and talk to the shop guys during coffee breaks. By the time I was in high school, my dad had bought his own refurbishing business and I started part-time while I finished my senior year. One week after graduating from high school, I was working there full time. Before long I fell into a comfortable rhythm of faking my way through the ins and outs of helping to run a small family business. Managing payroll, taking customer service calls, keeping the shop guys in line: all this fell to me in some form or another, and I pretended to know what I was doing. "Fake it 'til you make it," I would say.
.....
Emily and I are always up for a challenge. We didn't know what was ahead but we wanted to face the future hand in hand and with a tiny hand latching on to ours. So we decided to go for it.
The first thing was to find an IVF doctor. Friends of ours recommended a guy to us and my urologist seconded, so we set up an appointment with Dr. Sommer. He ordered up a battery of tests to determine if we could conceive. For Emily, it was a straightforward test to make sure her eggs were healthy. For me, like everything else, it was more difficult. Let's just say I'm a pain in the butt! We had to have a specialty urologist do a sperm extraction surgery. Thankfully, I was out for that so I won't be able to give you a detailed account of what was going on with my junk. I know some of you are disappointed.
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