My doctor called me yesterday morning during work to follow up on the lab work from December 22nd. She reiterated what the nurse had told me about my levels; she said she'd like to see my progesterone at a 10 but my blood was taken a day or two earlier in my luteal phase than we'd planned so she wasn't especially worried.
Then I asked about C, even though I kind of half thought that she wouldn't be able to tell me any details, but she wasn't nearly as closed-lipped as the nurse last week. "It isn't good," she said. "Normal sperm count is 20-100 million, he is at 20.5 million. There was no motility, it was immotile. And the morphology was 1%." She went on to say that the issues could always be due to illness, and that he'd get tested again, etc.
I called Mom and cried. All my what-ifs and it's-not-fairs came flying at me at the same time, and I had to hide on the patio so none of my coworkers would stumble across me. I felt better after the news had a chance to sink in; I'm relatively quick to buck up but apparently I have to let go of it first.
C has an appointment with the urologist a week from today. Hopefully the options are easier, less invasive and cheaper than I think they're going to be. We can rise to meet whatever comes, but because I like to over-think I get worried when I don't know what our options are. Now to keep myself distracted for a week.