"The power of Christ compels you" (part 2)

Many men will tell you that trying is the best part of having a baby and in many regards on the surface it truly does look like Nirvana. Endless nocturnal escapades, you do not have to work hard because the end result is all she wants. No fore play for almost all of the “trying" part is an almost guarantee. No condoms, no contraceptives, no worries!That’s what I had heard from every expecting father and all the fathers I had talked to. I am here to tell you right now. DO NOT BELIEVE THEM!! Oh, in the beginning it is great. The first month I felt extremely close to my wife. We would cuddle after our tussle and talk about whether it was going to be a boy or girl. We would count out the months and guess what the due date would be. My wife’s favorite holiday is Halloween and if we timed it right we figured we could have a Halloween baby. My wife would buy pregnancy tests and in the beginning it was fun to both go into the bathroom and wait for those 2 lines we just knew would come. My wife having been through this 2 times before at the age of 17 and 19 was the expert in the house. I had read all the books I could find and surfed the internet until I felt that I was sufficiently armed with knowledge about conception.After the first month of blessed joy that I had been promised, things slowly changed. I started to notice subtle differences such as a journal with words such as Heavy, Spotty, Beginning, Ending, and encircled in bold print SEX NOW. Being the ignoramus I thought it was dreams or a plan for fun with me. The words menstrual journal never crossed my mind. I noticed a thermometer with the words stamped on it “Not for oral or rectal use” and thought it a bit strange that she would want to take her temp under her arm, but to each his own! After the second month of Nirvana the subtle changes became a bit more noticeable. Such as the statement “I think that you are infertile!” What are you talking about “I got pregnant with my first baby at 16 and I do not even remember having sex for the second one so I know that I am a fertile mertyl but I think that you can’t have babies!” Of course with all the couth I could muster I blurted out “I thought that we weren’t trying” To which I was met with a barrage of words that would make Richard Pryor noticeably blush. The temperature in the room began to drop as my wife’s Latina blood began to boil. I scooted out of the room without replying to anything my demure wife was screaming at me. I had a DR’s appointment that day with the VA and my wife, although cooled off but not calmed down, decided to come with me, I thought to join me out of concern for my health. After talking to my doctor for 5 minutes about my hypothyroidism and the medicine I was taking to control it my wife decided to join the conversation. “Excuse me Dr., but can that problem cause him to become sterile? Or maybe have a lower sperm count because I think he is sterile. We have been trying for a long time (3 months) and he can not get me pregnant.” The physician assured her that it would not in fact cause any of the problems she was worried about. To which she again insisted “No I know he is sterile is there any way we can prove it?” When asked how long we had been trying she told him 3 months and he assured her that this was actually a very short time and an average time for conception is any where from 10-12 months. To which she said “All right look here “WE” (not me but I wasn't going to say a thing!) think he is sterile so how about ordering a sperm count test and he can give you a sperm sample in a week when my fertile time is over?” So the Dr. did in fact order the test to which in a week I promptly lied about giving a sample. During the next few weeks I noticed more changes around the house. Gone was anything that was even remotely tight around my waist and groin. All my boxer briefs were replaced with boxers. All my Wranglers were hidden and replaced with baggy pants that were 2 sizes to big. “Don’t want to cook what little swimmers you might have left.” Was the response that I got when I asked what the he** happened to my jeans and underwear? I drew the line at wearing an athletic supporter when playing sports, or going on my ATV. I began to notice books around the house such as “becoming pregnant the natural way” and “positions to enhance the chance of conception” but became agitated when I saw “What to do when your mate has a low sperm count” and “You want kids that he can’t give you” I tried to talk to my wife about the medical facts and how long it takes people to get pregnant. This all fell on deaf ears and when we received a message from our best friends that they were pregnant, let’s just say that hell as no fury like a woman trying to get pregnant. The next day I was accosted upon awakening, then watched just where she was taking her temperature and promptly threw up upon thinking about when I took my temperature with that same thermometer 2 days ago. When I finished and brushed my teeth I was informed that “this was the day, my temperature is right so come here you sexy infertile bast*rd” For the second time in 30 minutes we again attempted to conceive. This time when finished my wife kept her legs in the air with MY pillow under her bottom to “keep any swimmers still alive in” she waited for an hour like this which was just fine for me I got to eat in peace and drink my coffee. The rest of the day pretty much continued on the same pattern after 7-12 performance a day for the next 3 days, I was needless to say sick of sex. Yes I said that. A warm blooded healthy male was sick of sex. On the third night my wife began to stroke my back at 0200 in the morning that normally would have all parts at attention but this particular night, with all parts hiding like a scared turtle I pretended to sleep and thought that this might actually work. My wife eventually got me to awake by hitting me on my bare back (no PJ’s it might get to hot for my few swimmers) until I told her to just let me sleep. That is when she asked me if I wanted to try again. In a voice less of my normal bass and more like that of a frightened school girl I squeaked “no, please god have mercy, no”. When asked why, I told her that I didn’t think that anything would be produced and if it did it would by dust with a poof sound. That is when my wife started to cry and accuse me of not wanting to try. Not wanting to forget what my foot tasted like I again reminded her that we were not suppose to be trying and just letting nature take her course. I followed the sobbing sounds into the spare room where I begged her to come back to bed and only with the promise of more activity. After which I was warmly greeted with more of a forewarning than a statement. “If you can ever get me pregnant you will regret saying no and wish for this again” Over the next 2 months this was the norm. Along with buying pregnancy tests in bulk. It got to the point that the local grocer would ask me every time I walked into the store how many I wanted. I put those grocers’ children through college. Every day I would be met with the same depressed look, or call about how I again failed to impregnate my wife. Some times she would ask me to look and see if I saw two lines like she did and of course there was just one line but experience had taught me to study that urine laden stick like it was the cure for cancer. After 5-10 minutes of intent staring I would inform her that it was in fact negative. Once there was a smudge and she forced me to get a prescription from a fellow ER Dr. to get a lab test which invariably was negative. I often thought long and hard about taking a pen and drawing an extra line but enjoying life I thought better about it every time. Eventually my wife had taken to leaving the test on the shelf in the bathroom because she did not want to be disappointed, and since I was a cold hearted bastard that did not want to be pregnant anyway it would cheer me up. One day after arriving home I got a call and was asked to look at the test. Loe and behold there was two lines. “Honey there is 2 lines love.” “Scott if you are kidding me I will break you” I had to inform her “Anna I learned long ago to not pet the piranha!” I then called and got a test set up for her to have her blood taken for an official hospital test which came back positive. She came home that day to a dozen roses and I got my sweet, loving wife back for just how short of a time I was about to learn.