Hi, I’m Shaun. I’m a man, and I’m infertile.
Not something you hear spoken about too often is it?
That’s exactly why I'm here. Why sharing my personal male infertility journey feels necessary — because too many men stay silent about these struggles.
Infertility is challenging for anyone, and my wife Jenna and I know this intimately. Yet, when Azoospermia or other male fertility issues come into play, society’s expectations can make it even more isolating. Men are told to “man up,” conceal their emotions, and deal with it quietly. The problem is, that silence can be crushing.
Early on, I searched for male fertility support and resources specifically created by or for men. I found nothing. Plenty of forums and communities cater to women — helpful and supportive spaces, no doubt — but there were no places where men openly discussed the shame, confusion, and fear of facing fertility struggles.
I wanted to meet others who understood the doubts about masculinity and the fear that my inability to produce sperm might define my worth as a man. That void of understanding compelled me to open up. Men need to see that they’re not the only ones feeling this way, and that these issues are a medical condition — no different than any other health challenge.
Jenna and I tried to conceive for months without success. After visiting our doctor and being referred for a semen analysis, I learned I had Azoospermia. One operation, a varicocele embolization, offered
hope, especially as it was a relatively minor procedure. “I’ll just pop in and get that done, and we can press on from there, maybe even conceive naturally” I reassured Jenna.
But following the embolization came another semen test - which showed that there was still no sperm.
Crushed.
The lowest point for us.
We both knew we’d entered the realm of IVF at the very least. Knowing Jenna would endure invasive treatments because of me weighed heavily on me.
I wondered if I’d failed her, if she’d still see me as the partner she married, and if this struggle would redefine who I was as a man.
Not willing to give up there, I underwent mTESE, or microsurgical testicular sperm extraction. It’s a more invasive procedure that searches directly within the testicles for any viable sperm. I woke up from sedation to find out the very final news: they found none.
I’d never become a biological father.
That realisation hit hard. As did the physical pain. The way I waddled around the house would give John Wayne a run for his money in his prime.
But as time passed, and I underwent some deep inner reflection, I came to realise something vital — being a man isn’t dictated by genetics or passing on DNA. True strength is about how you show up, the love you give, and the empathy you embody.
Supporting Jenna, attending every appointment, and standing by her side with compassion proved that I was just as much a partner as I’d ever been.
The emotional toll was immense, and I felt grief on many levels. Grieving the loss of my genetics was a necessary step to healing. I let myself experience denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and ultimately acceptance. Acceptance didn’t mean I liked the circumstances — it meant I stopped fighting them. I made room for our new reality and started seeing that donor conception could be the path forward. Inspired by stories of resilience - such as Henry Fraser’s remarkable journey, I focused on what I had rather than what I lacked. Over time, that shift opened doors to a future filled with hope.
In February 2021, Jenna and I welcomed our twins, Ray and Evelyn, via donor sperm. They are everything to me.
I’ve realised that fatherhood isn’t bound by what society or social media tells you. Love, care, presence, and integrity matter infinitely more than a genetic link.
This is why I share my experiences and insights publicly now, to show other men that they’re not alone. It started on Instagram with a silly handle (but one that sums everything up concisely - @knackered_knackers. This then expanded to co-hosting The Male Fertility Podcast, where Ciaran and I discuss male fertility at length, bringing on experts and real stories to break the silence around these topics.
If you’re facing similar challenges, please remember that you’re not alone, and that your masculinity isn’t dependent on your virility.
Seek support, talk to someone who understands, or share your thoughts with your partner. You deserve compassion and the freedom to express what you’re going through. There’s a community waiting for you, one that’s growing stronger and louder every day.
For additional insights, feel free to explore other articles on this site. Each shared story helps reduce stigma, offering reassurance and guidance for those just beginning their own journeys.