To those men who:
Eventually stop complaining about the constant trips to the andrology lab.
Hold our hand during the IUI procedure. That look of death we give you is just because it’s a little uncomfortable. It doesn’t mean we are secretly thinking we wish it was you lying on the metal table.
Are strong, when we are unable to be.
Stick us with inch-and-a-half needles without flinching. We know you enjoy it.
Ask the questions we’ve forgotten about while sitting in the RE’s office.
Don’t want to discuss their feelings, because they don’t want to upset us further. (Trust us, you couldn’t upset us further).
Give up coffee, dairy, gluten, briefs, and alcohol because we think it will increase your sperm counts.
Give up sex for the next six weeks.
Say it’s no big deal that you can’t have sex for the next six weeks.
Call the insurance company for us when we are feeling like if we talk to one more incompetent person we will just FREAK OUT!
Tell us you still love us after we have just yelled at you for not taking out the garbage. Again, it’s the hormones, we swear.
Don’t bat an eye when we have just blogged to the world about your prescription for Viagra.
Lovingly place a blanket and pillow in the backseat for us to lay down in after our transfer, but then still drive like a maniac, forgetting we aren’t buckled.
Fiercely shake your head when we cry out, “Maybe you should just go marry someone else who can have kids!”
Pretend not to notice when we feel up our newly enlarged breasts from progesterone.
Refrain from asking if you can feel up our newly enlarged breasts.
Wisely say, “No” when we ask if we have gotten fatter. We have, we just want you to make us feel better.