When Craig Bowler and his partner Courtney Scott went to see a fertility specialist, they were surprised to hear their fertility was being questioned.

“He said there were some signs that I wasn’t producing sperm,” says Craig, 37, from Meaning, Brisbane.

“I suddenly realized that I had been walking around with the assumption that I wasn’t going to be the problem, that it was something to do with my partner.

“This made me feel so bad.”

Further testing confirmed that both Craig and Courtney were experiencing fertility issues and needed to undergo in vitro fertilization treatment.

“Our experience was not typical; my partner just had to collect the eggs; I had to go through a process.”

After several cycles, the couple decides to stop in vitro fertilization and they face the painful new reality of being childless by choice.

We heard from Craig after we published our story about comments that could minimize childlessness, and we’re publishing this perspective as part of our ongoing series about the difficult decision to stop IVF.

These are his words.

‘Suddenly our world changed’

It was a difficult time when we first got the call from our fertility specialist about her suspicions that I might have fertility issues, too.

In an instant, our world changed. I wasn’t prepared for this kind of news.

I suddenly realized that men could be a problem too; a real shock to the system.

We did further tests and it turned out that I had an enlargement in one of my testicles. They were worried he had testicular cancer, so I had surgery to remove the testicle within four days.

We were also dealing with this experience along with Courtney’s low egg count. We both had our own battles.

And in the middle of all of this, we’re trying to support each other through something neither of us are ready for.

We don’t get training in school on how to talk about infertility or things like that. It’s such a taboo subject.

Sex education is all about ‘If you don’t wear a condom, you’ll get pregnant’.

Well, that’s not the only narrative out there.

In Vitro Fertilization ‘a harrowing experience’

After my surgery, we started in vitro fertilization treatment.

Each cycle, I had to go through a process (testicular sperm aspiration) where they would manually remove sperm-containing tissue from my intact testicles.

They hope to collect sperm this way, but it takes some ‘trying’.

You are wide awake while this is happening. Local anesthesia is applied.

When I really had to think about it, I realized it was a pretty barbaric way to undo these things.

The amount of medication and injections the woman goes through during in vitro fertilization is much more than what I was experiencing at that moment.

IVF is a journey of constant brutality.

I think there was a period when you were mourning something that might have been at the end of a cycle, and then you turn around, try to swallow it, and go again, knowing full well that that too could be a disappointment.

When I think about how I handled this process, I feel ashamed of some of the ways I tried to deal with it.

Sometimes Courtney would compare us to other couples, and I often tried to downplay those comparisons, hoping to make things right in the moment.

The answer, as I see it, is to truly listen. Hearing and being present for your thoughts rather than trying to figure them out or minimize them.

Decision to stop in vitro fertilization treatment

The decision to stop IVF treatment was a difficult discussion between us.

What finally forced us to stop was an emotional toll. My partner and his body were going through a rollercoaster. And if they continue to take my sperm, there may be a risk of testicular deterioration.

When we were discussing the decision to stop IVF treatment at the clinic, a piece was missing for us. I don’t think that conversation happened.

Before all this, people described me as someone who had a zest for life. But IVF took some of that away from me.

I retreated a bit, moved away from my family and friends, probably trying to protect myself.

It hurts to talk to people, but I prefer education, otherwise the issue will continue to be misunderstood.

‘It’s hard to identify with being childless’

The transition from trying to have a baby to being childfree isn’t something either of us are completely comfortable with yet.

It is difficult to identify with the term childfree.

Even though we know that this is almost impossible scientifically and statistically, there is still a part of us that does not give up this possibility.

You can’t help but compare your life to your friends and what they have.

Other people may celebrate milestones in children’s lives.

My friends and colleagues often share updates about their children, and while I’m secretly truly happy for them, my first reaction is bitterness.

I feel pressure to hide this reaction, but the truth is, I’m jealous.

The pressure of being a mother is especially difficult for my wife.

She’ll come home after an event and tell me how all the women in the room were talking about how proud they were of the children in their lives. And he has to deal with it.

It’s incredibly difficult to watch others go on maternity or paternity leave, and it’s especially hard for Courtney.

When will we take a break from work? When will we feel this support? That sense of community?

achieve together

I’m so grateful that the two of us did this together. I think there are couples who cannot achieve this.

This is something I am very afraid of; When my partner looks at me, he thinks about what could happen, and I remind him of that.

But so far we have been able to sit down and talk about the difficult moments.

Regardless, even though humor may be hard to find right now, I still believe laughter is the best medicine.