Infertile, Inadequate And On The Verge Of Outing Myself

I still remember the day the doctor told me I had azoospermia—no sperm at all. It felt like my entire existence collapsed in a single sentence. I couldn’t process it. I was raised in a Christian home, surrounded by love, but in that moment, I felt cursed, like God Himself had turned His back on me.

At my lowest point, I tried to end my own life. The weight of feeling “less than a man” was unbearable. To make it worse, my wife at the time didn’t comfort me—she left. She told me she felt like a victim of my “saltiness,” saying things like, “God must hate you to make you infertile.” Those words carved scars into me deeper than any knife could.

For almost two years, I was alone, drowning in self-hate and silence. Then I met someone new. I thought I’d push her away by telling her the truth about my infertility, but instead, her response shook me. She wasn’t like my ex-wife. She didn’t pity me, she didn’t shame me. She supported me and said, “We’ll look for solutions together.” She already had two children before me, and as our relationship deepened, I loved them like they were my own. I became their father in every sense of the word. Still, in the quiet moments of the night, my heart ached for a child that carried my blood.

It was my wife who suggested we try a herbalist, and that’s when DonMama’s name came up.

During the assessment, DonMama explained my condition carefully. She factored in my age, the severity of the azoospermia, and the medications I had taken before. She recommended 50 weeks of treatment. Almost a year. I thought, What’s the point? Why torture myself with hope when I might never see results? But something about her confidence gave me a spark of faith. I decided to try.

I changed my diet. I followed every instruction she gave me, no matter how small. Some days I questioned everything. Some nights I lay awake wondering if I was just setting myself up for more heartbreak. But I kept going.

After six months and some weeks, DonMama told me it was time to do another sperm test. The result came back: 6.4 million sperm cells. From zero to millions. I cried like a baby. It was still low, yes, but it was something—and that something felt like a miracle. I told my wife that day, “I’ll do another 18 months if I have to. I love where this is going.”

After 58 weeks of treatment, the impossible happened—my wife was pregnant. I can’t describe the joy that flooded me. Today, I am the proud father of three beautiful children—two I chose to love as my own, and one who carries my name, my blood, my DNA.

Looking back, I see the transformation. Not just in my body, but in my spirit. I once thought I was hopeless. Now, I live in fulfillment that words can’t capture.

Men struggle too, often silently. But my story is proof: there is hope. Sometimes the road is longer for us, but that doesn’t mean we should give up.

DonMama wasn’t just my herbalist—she became family. I could call her on my worst days, vent my fears, and she would listen with patience and wisdom. She gave me hope when I had none left.

As I always tell people now:

“DonMama knows her stuff. Right now she’s the best herbalist I’ve ever come across. She’s detailed, passionate, and truly cares. I highly recommend her to anyone and everyone.”

Thank you for your time.

Testimonial from:

Mr. K.P. Trought

39 years old

Toronto Canada.