My wife and I want children. Turns out I suffer from male infertility.

• My wife and I had been trying to conceive for almost a year before we sought help. 
• Turns out I suffer from male infertility, and my ejaculations have no sperm in them. 
• We are waiting for next steps and trying to remain hopeful. 

Sunflowers don't bloom in March. It was a few months too early for the stubbled stalks and yellow petals, but I found four tucked away at a flower shop in Los Angeles. 

My wife's favorite flower is the sunflower; she's convinced that you can't be in a bad mood if you see one. After the clerk handed them to me wrapped in paper, I shuffled out the door. On this bright, sunny Friday in March, I headed home to my wife to apologize. 

Earlier that day, I'd found out I was infertile.

I have no sperm in my ejaculations

Dr. Howard Kim, the director of men's reproductive health at Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles, said my condition is called azoospermia — a condition where there's no measurable sperm in an ejaculation. My wife and I had been trying for a baby for just under a year, the average amount of time a medical provider waits before testing for fertility problems. 

I had never heard of azoospermia before my diagnosis, and I had certainly never considered the possibility of being infertile. It never came up in sex-education classes in school or even in conversation when visiting primary-care doctors. 

The diagnosis took a toll on me

It didn't make sense. I'm healthy. I eat right. I don't smoke. I was desperate to rationalize my situation on that 10-minute walk home. The diagnosis was devastating. One particular thought kept replaying in my mind: Why would my wife want to be with me if I have no little "me's" floating around down there? 

I felt alone.

But I am not. While society has historically assumed that infertility is a women's issue, "the male is a significant factor or cause in almost half of all infertility cases," according to Dr. Kim. Ten percent of men in the United States who are attempting to conceive cannot.  Yet society hardly addresses male-fertility issues. The onus of conception almost always — and wrongly — falls to the female. 

My wife and I love talking about what our future children will look like. Would they have my sky-blue or her forest-green eyes? We're convinced they would be rascals. As I walked home to give her the news, I felt like I would break her heart into a million pieces. So, I bought her favorite flowers. 

There might be a solution for me

I saw her in our home office, ending a work call. With deep hesitation, I gave her the news. She looked at me, then down at the sunflowers. But after the worst 10-minute walk of my life, she calmly said to me, "It's not your fault."

Words appropriate of a soulmate. 

Dr. Kim had explained that several things could cause these diagnoses, including varicoceles — dilated veins in the scrotum — genetic disorders, hormone disorders, sperm-duct blocks, prostate issues, infections, medications, recreational drugs like marijuana, and occupational or environmental toxins. Even sitting in a hot tub or placing a warm laptop on your lap can affect your sperm count.

But after multiple semen analyses, blood tests, and one transrectal ultrasound, there's still no clear indication of what is causing my infertility. But we continue onward.

The final step was a biopsy and a microscopic testicular-sperm extraction. The surgery was timed with my wife's egg retrieval. For ten days straight, she injected herself with Follistim and Menopur — medicine to help her follicles grow. If all went well, in-vitro fertilization combined with an intracytoplasmic sperm injection, or ICSI, was our path to conception. 

Unfortunately, Dr. Kim found no viable sperm to extract.

This was the worst news we could hear. It felt like a loss. Like someone was ripped away from my arms before even being born. For days, I manically searched for solutions. I wanted nothing more than to solve this problem, but I couldn't.

A week later, Dr. Kim called with the biopsy results. He said I have hypospermatogenesis — everything needed for spermatogenesis is present, just in fewer numbers. This was a surprise to all three of us. It turns out, there are solutions for hypospermatogenesis, depending on the severity. 

While we wait for our next steps, there is a spark of hope again. But we remind ourselves that regardless of what happens down the road — ICSI, using a sperm donor, or adoption — we have options. And each option leads to a child, no matter the path, the cost, or the time it takes.

It's easy to focus on the problem over the solution, but children, like flowers of all kinds, bloom year-round.