The First Attempt - January

A good, stable, work-from home job, check. A plan for child care, check. A savings account for Alistair, check. A cup full of goo from one of my best friends sitting on my nightstand beside a sterile syringe, check. And then, reality check...

When people ask how you intend to become pregnant on your own, they don’t really want to know the answer. They may want to know if you are using a service, or a known donor, or elf magic, but they really do not want to know any of the details. They may think they do, but trust me, they do NOT. Nine times out of ten you will hear the words ‘turkey baster’ followed by a giggle if you are having this conversation. If you really think that a turkey baster is the solution, please go read somewhere else.

In medical terms what is used is known as a ‘needle-less syringe’, basically a needle without the sharp pointy part that makes me hyperventilate and faint. You should also have some sort of sterile collection cup. After much searching and embarrassment, I found both these items quite reasonably. I bought a box of individually wrapped sterile cups online, and found the syringes by asking my pharmacist (I think I panicked and said I used them for baby medicine), they were a mere 25 cents each but they are kept behind the counter. Luckily I didn’t look like a meth junkie.

I had a date in my head of when to start because it was after my most recent dive trip (I don’t trust the statistics on diving and babies, and better safe than sorry). Then I used the very handy ovulation calendar at BabyZone.com to help figure out when the time would be ideal. I bought a basal thermometer but couldn’t ever remember to check my temperature before getting out of bed to pee, let alone remember to graph it, so gave up. Luckily I’m very regular and have never in my life skipped a period, so the plain ol’ calendar was the way to go. I talked a lot about my cervical mucus in polite dinner conversation, which made everyone very happy.

It should have happened like this; a pixie or fairy or something similar flies into my room and hands me a fetchingly pretty little bag of magic dust or petals, which I sprinkle over myself or ingest, and then ta-da! I am pregnant. That is not how it happened. Instead, Loud stared, in abject horror and in total disbelief, as Quiet tried to make some pixie dust for me. When he couldn’t take the silent judging any longer the embarrassed and frustrated Donor finally went and hid in the closet (insert joke here) to complete his task. Meanwhile, I was hiding in my own room, terrified and trying not to think about what was going on in the room below me. Quiet crept up the stairs with his magical gift, set it outside my door, hollered, ‘Special delivery!’ and ran. I froze. Then I went and got it, and panicked. What was the right position? It didn’t look like very much. Was it really his, or was it some cruel joke and it was Loud’s, or tapioca? Had all his blood tests really been ok? I set the cup on the nightstand, then promptly knocked it off. Swearing like a sailor I almost fell off the bed collecting it again (luckily the lid was on tight), got a syringe, and started to fill it. My favorite part was when I gagged taking off the lid; by this point, I was realizing what a terrible idea the whole thing was and how stupid we were to think we could pull it off. I had flashbacks to articles I’d read of how cold and clinical insemination was as opposed to the ‘natural and loving’ way to make a baby, and had to wholeheartedly agree. After making my deposit (which felt to me like it instantly all dumped right back out), I tried various creative ways of keeping my hips elevated which I’m sure would have looked hilarious to the casual bystander. I had read that having an orgasm immediately afterwards was ideal because the cervix would dip into the vaginal pool, a visual image that I compared to my inner workings going for a nice swim. I was so incredibly distracted that I could barely pull it off. I tried to lay horizontal as long as I could like I was in The Handmaid's Tale, which was probably 15 minutes, and then couldn’t wait any longer to pee.

So I learned some good lessons about being better prepared, using the ladies’ room beforehand, breathing through my mouth, keeping my eyes closed as much as possible, and trying to think happy thoughts. I have also got to stop thinking about my chances of this actually working, not stress about it, stop constantly talking about it, and mostly quit beating myself up over it. Most importantly I am NOT allowed to go try the pregnancy test I’ve already bought because I am so incredibly impatient.

I’m going to try again tonight, and tomorrow, and then that will be it for the January Attempt. Then I just wait until the 21st, the earliest date for an accurate home pregnancy test, or if I’m too cheap hang out and see if I get my period. Fingers crossed…