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We started withdrawing from one another and created a protective cocoon around our individual selves. My husband felt worthless. He was depressed about how he felt physically. Throughout this time, he kept going from doctor to doctor where they would tell him that he was depressed or that he had a psychosexual disorder. This made him feel worse, of course.

At this point, we decided to commit our lives and our problem to the Lord. We had nothing else, so we sought him, although separately. We didn't have family devotions or meaningful prayer together, but on our own we were each getting closer to God.

Finally, one providential day, he went to a doctor who said that she wanted to run a testosterone test on him. A few days later, she called and said that she wanted to have a conference with him. She said that he had a condition known as hypogonadism. His testosterone levels were extremely low. He was referred to endocrinologists, who started treating him right away with hormone replacement therapy. It was such a relief to put a name and a cause to what had been going on. We had high expectations that the medications would work and that our lives would finally be normal again. The medication did wonders to his strength and sense of well-being and it did give him his potency back, but it still did not give him a normal libido.

During this process we had two more children. I now had my hands full dealing with three kids and resented having to put any effort into being the initiator of our sexual relationship. I decided that the way I was going to survive without getting hurt was to see my husband as a sick person who couldn't help what was happening to him. I kept telling myself that it was as if he was in a wheelchair or had another chronic disease. However, to stifle my desire, I stopped all physical affection toward him. We stopped touching completely and became like strangers under one roof. The more I stifled my feelings and desires, the more estranged we became. We didn't really fight. We were just like roommates; there was no intimacy left. We were hurting, though. I couldn't bear to see my husband's eyes because they looked so full of pain and anguish. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and let it all out, but instead I just made the wall around myself taller every day.

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