Another unsuccessful home (back of the car) insemination mean we are on a mission to try and better last month’s story and improve the story for the next attempt.
As previously mentioned, synchronisation can be tough between the three of us. This fertile week found us with something on everynight. Damn Melbourne and the ever tempting lure of good food and entertainment. This called for creativity of the extreme variety.
I was pretty comfortable with doing the deed anywhere by this stage so again, we got Cam to do the name up a little package after work one night following which we made our way to the nearest hospital (funnily enough it was the same hospital we plan to deliver future children in). The hospital was chosen due to its proximity to Cam’s while also being en route to our dinner date. Once inside we selected a toilet which thankfully was a whole room rather than just a cubicle. I lay down on the floor (yuck I know), pulled my pants down, rested my head on Sophs lap and inserted the syringe which was packed full of little future babies. 20 minutes later, we exited the toilet, almost guilty in our behavior, and made our way to a very enjoyable dinner with friends. Needless to say, I washed my hair and work clothes after that encounter.
So that’s fine and dandy (although some may disagree) , but that is not the end of the toilet stories for this month.
We had decided to attempt twice over the fertile window to maximize the chance of success. This meant a pick up from Cam, pre work, 2 days later. Fortunately, I work 5 minutes walk from Cam’s. I picked it up bright and early and proceeded to walk to work. I work in a hospital (different to the last hospital we inseminated in) and upon arrival I realised I had forgotten the syringes we used for inseminating. I did a quick dash to one of the wards with the goods down my bra, grabbed a syringe and tried to get out again without being seen. Of course one of my mates saw me and wanted a chat. I ended up tapping the vessel down my top stating “I just need to go and inseminate”. Not something you hear every day I’m sure. Of course she was dumbfounded and cracked up laughing and screeching down the corridor. She got so excited about me doing it at work that I think she wanted to come so she could be part of it all. I of course got rid of her and made my way to the bathroom alone. So there I was, for the second time in a week, on a public toilet floor, dress around my waist, trying to get pregnant. Standard behaviour by now. This time however I had a bit of a mishap. I moved too suddenly and the syringe fell out, onto my dress. Oh god. Not only have I lost a lot of the swimmers, they can now be found on the back of my work dress which I need to wear all day. How do I always find myself in these situations?
I consoled myself with the fact that I had attempted earlier in the week so no stress, this was an extra anyway. It was so wrote possible I could be pregnant.
So that was my week of insemination. Not your standard insemination story however I feel that people get pregnant in pub toilets all the time. It’s bound to work right?