The Big Day

I'm ovulating so today is Insemination Day! B left first thing in the morning to go deliver the goods and I'll go in a few hours later. Apparently, it takes a few hours to prepare between drop-off and pick-up. I'm not sure why. Perhaps they greet each individual swimmer? As I got ready for work, I briefly wondered if I should wear something special for the occasion, but who I was I trying to impress? The sperm were going to get an entirely different view and I strongly doubted they were going to comment on my coordinating cardigan and heels on the big swim upstream. The rest of the morning went by as if in a dream. The whole idea that I was actually going to get inseminated was surreal. Until it was happening.

Yet again, I sat in the doctor's office with my little kleenex cover, shivering on the table waiting for the action to start. It was a long road leading up to this point and now that it was actually here..... I was a little afraid. No turning back now, right? The nurse came in first armed with B's mojo and once I verified his Social Security number was the correct number on the package the doctor came in and got down to business. I'm not kidding. He pulled up the rolly chair, unwrapped the catheter, rubbed his hands together and said, "let's do this." No foreplay, not even small talk about the weather. Just spread 'em and "let's do this."

Needless to say, I less than ready for the metal duck lips and the doctor said to the nurse, "look, she's holding back already." What did this guy expect? And while we're at it, why should I be condemned for this? Shouldn't I receive praise for not being so willy-nilly about foreign objects coming my way down there? Who are these women whose bodies apparently scream, "bring it on!" and why aren't they getting the admonishing looks?

In less than five minutes the whole insemination was over and again I was alone in the room laying on the examination table. Talk about wham, bam, thank you ma'am! I layed there for ten minutes as instructed and thought about all of the plans B and I had made for our kids-to-be over the years. I imagined the look on his face when I would tell him I was pregnant and wondered if when we were old and fighting over jello cubes would we remember all of the craziness that lead us to this day? But most of that time I prayed. I prayed to G-d that we would be blessed with a little boy or girl and promised I would spend every moment as a parent making my mom proud of me. I prayed that our home would be filled with a little child's laughter as Gilby and Ovie licked him or her.

Then before I knew it, ten minutes was over and I was dressed, bill paid and heading back to work. I called B and Lemmon to fill them in, but that was it. I was convinced everyone at work and then later at Publix could tell. Instead of a scarlet letter I felt like I had a big IUI imprinted on my chest.

So the waiting game has officially begun. In about two weeks I'll know if it worked. Cross your fingers!