The drive to Houston is actually enjoyable when C and I make it together. We talk, laugh, sing along to the radio and daydream about our future. Well, usually it's enjoyable. When we make this drive for IF reasons, it casts a different feel on the drive. It's 8 hours to think about why we're going home and what might happen, what it'll mean for our chances of a family. These kind of drives usually include me crying at some point and C expressing how sad he feels about the azoospermia. I'm sure this drive will be the same. I'll talk about how the fear has crept in, C will be optimistic at first and then admit how he really feels and we'll arrive at my ILs slightly exhausted and completely frazzled from our road trip.
The day of the surgery, we'll be up around 4am. We'll drive to the Medical Center, navigate the huge hospital and then wait. My Mom will attempt to calm my nerves but until I see C in recovery and talk to Dr. L, I'll be a nervous wreck. (I'm not worried about the varicocele, it's the other two procedures that have my stomach all in knots.) Once we're all loaded back into the car and headed to my ILs, I'll breath a sigh of relief that this part is over. I'll spend the rest of the day tending to C and awaiting my birthday the next day.
Once the flurry of activity and excitement is over, it will hit me that our journey is far from over, and in fact, the real wait has just begun. Cue the freak-outs about our upcoming SA.