'A Cure For Male Infertility.' I'm Thrilled. No, Really, I Am.

a blog by Lori Shandle-Fox, Laughing IS Conceivable, August 15, 2011

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So, ever since I read about this possible male infertility cure in the works, I've been working on being thrilled.

That doesn't sound a mite selfish does it?

You see, I read that scientists in Japan have had some success making infertile male mice into virile, macho sperm-growing, papa mice.

The scientists are hopeful that somewhere down the line, those rodents could be our husbands ... Well, you know what I mean.

So, I want to jump for joy ... I just can't get my selfish feet to leave the ground.

How do I put this delicately? To any infertile women reading this:

"Why do we always get screwed?"

It's not just that some of us try for decades to figure out why we can't get pregnant, and now infertile men might be able to just take a pill and be done with it.

Oh, no, the injustices started waaaaay before the infertility thing.

We women started out ahead. When you're born, everybody loves to see a cute little girl. And when we were 7, there were so many cuter outfits for us than for the boys.

Then puberty hit. Let the screwing begin.

Health class: The root of all evil. Pre-pubescent boys and girls are mercifully divided.

Girls learn about the joys of womanhood: Cramps, bloating, migraines, moodiness, zits. But not to fear. It won't be all the time ... Just every few weeks ... for the next 40 years or so.

Boys, I suppose (never having actually been privy to the "boys' health class"), learn about having sweet dreams about Taylor Swift, where to hide the magazines, how to change your own sheets in the wee hours of the morning before your mother wakes up and having a good lock on the bedroom door. And let the screwing continue ...

Then later on in life, many men go through male menopause, and women go through real menopause...

So the man will lose a little hair, buy a Corvette and flirt with a 20-year-old bimbo ... ho-hum.

And the woman will be hot, cold, hot, cold, her blood sugar goes up, her blood pressure goes up. She has mood swings and depression. But don't worry too much about it — it will all be over in a decade or so.

And in between puberty and menopause, some of us have the dubious distinction of also going through infertility. So the woman goes to the fertility doctor three times a week for five years and has her ovaries tested, her tubes tested, her blood tested, her hormones tested and, most of all, her patience tested.

And her husband gets a cup of water, takes a new pill and is ready to reproduce.

Did I tell you I'm thrilled?