I am a man and I am infertile. To begin with, learning that you are infertile is not easy. And without minimizing the distress of women who go through the same thing, receiving this news as a man brings a particular dimension: it directly shakes our sense of masculinity.
Being a “real” man still carries its share of preconceived ideas and stubborn stereotypes. A real man does not show weakness, always stays in control, knows what to do in every situation, does not show his emotions… you know the type. Although things have evolved a lot in recent years, the shadow of that way of thinking still lingers much more than we realize in our male minds. I myself, until very recently, had unconsciously reduced my emotional range to three options: I’m doing well, I’m doing badly, I need to poop.
So, imagine this: receiving a diagnosis of azoospermia (a very valuable word in Scrabble, which means that you produce no sperm cells at all) was a monumental emotional puzzle. My body produces no sperm cells. None! Nothing! Nope! Nada! Not even a single one, like Matt Damon in The Martian. In short, it wasn’t easy!
And yet, I have never defined my masculinity by my physique. Honestly, if you saw me, you would understand that, in the Cro-Magnon days, I would have been assigned to gathering berries rather than hunting mammoths. But despite that, this news still planted seeds of doubt. Being confronted with infertility forced me to think about questions that you fertile muggles have probably never had to ask yourselves: is it my fault? Why me? If I have children by other means, will they still see me as their dad? What purpose do I serve, exactly? As you can see, it quickly becomes existential; it is far from simple for a guy who is not used to dealing with so many emotions and who has no role model to turn to.
What frustrated me the most was the feeling of having the choice taken away from me. At that point, I had not yet decided whether I wanted children or not. But I can guarantee you that having the possibility to choose taken away is profoundly upsetting. I felt as though every door was closing in front of me before I had even begun to move forward. It is extremely frustrating not to be able to accomplish what seems to be the most natural, the most instinctive, the simplest thing in the world: to reproduce. Having a child is so easy for some people that you may even have done it by accident!
As if it were not difficult enough to deal with this feeling of powerlessness, you also have to face other people’s reactions, awkward and hurtful comments, and above all, the general lack of understanding. Most of the time, it is not meant maliciously, but it still hurts. Yes, some things affect us too, even if we pretend that everything is fine. One day, a stranger to whom I had just revealed my infertility told me that it must be terrible, at my age, not to be able to get an erection anymore… Like many people, he confused infertility with impotence—that gives you an idea of the general public’s level of education about male infertility. Let me reassure you: on that front, everything works perfectly well. The problem occurs a little further down the production line.
Being infertile, as a man, is like having your instinctive role as a “provider of life” taken away. It is difficult. Obviously, regardless of sex, infertility comes with its share of challenges. My goal with this text is simply to start a conversation that is sorely lacking space. Because we men are often not very good at talking about our problems or our emotions. Sometimes because of fear, a lack of vocabulary, experience, or simply a lack of understanding and acceptance of what we are feeling.
So, if you are an infertile man, do not hesitate to talk about what you are going through as best you can. The more we talk about it, the easier it will be for the generations that follow. Do you want to be a dad? Being a dad also means leading by example, showing that masculinity can be expressed in a thousand and one ways, and paving the way for those who come after us.
About the author
Sébastien Haché is a comedian, author of the show Tirer à blanc, and host of the podcast of the same name, broadcast on Radio-Canada’s Ohdio platform, in which he explores an essential question: Why is infertility still a taboo subject? Through his humour, authenticity, and his own journey, he helps open the dialogue about male infertility and break the taboos surrounding it. To learn more about his work, visit www.sebastienhache.com.