We were at the doctors last night to get Mr B's SA results.
I had TheFear all week, and in fact it made me incredibly moody and miserable for the past week.
As it happens, though, the worry was for nothing. His lil' swimmers are all good (although their shape could be a bit better, apparently). They're super mobile, but swimming around without much of a purpose thanks to my horrendous ovaries.
I have to have a day 21 progesterone test done, so that's booked for Monday. We think this is day 21, but the doctor isn't too worried about chasing it - if it's not Monday, never mind, she'll refer us anyway.
I left the doctors with mixed feelings about the results.
I know that it's much better for us that Mr B's swimmer's are all good. I know that our options are much better because of his healthy spermies. I know that are chances are probably better, too.
But I also know that, if he so wanted, he could go and hook up with Little Miss Healthy Womb and have babies without all of the medical intervention. I know that if we don't get to have babies, it'll all be down to me.
That's pretty sucky.
We've obviously talked about it, and he's told me that he'd rather be childless with me than a Daddy with someone else. But I can't help wondering how much he really means that and how much he's saying that because he has to.
Will he wake up one day in years to come, when we're surrounded by cats instead of grandchildren, and resent me because I wasn't able to give him children?
Only time will tell, I guess...