Sample World was at the very end of the hall. Santa escorted us inside. There was a wine-colored leather chair, a TV, a urinal, toilet, sink, and a clip board. Very romantic.
Santa then gave us the run down. Santa's a matter-of-fact dude.
"I assume that you're staying in here?"
I realized he was referring to me, turned bright red, and said, "yes" as if I was being interviewed for a very high-paying job. I figured if I seemed very professional that this would seem less awkward.
"Ok. Well, if you're staying here then there are some things I need to tell you."
Oh God, please, no.
"First of all, you need to record the time the sample was taken. There's a clock on your clip board."
Ok. Fine. We can do that.
"Second, you need to record it on your sheet if any of the sample is spilled and where it is spilled."
I'm going to vomit RIGHT NOW if I can't figure out how to disappear first.
"And third, since you've never done this together before, you need to talk about who is going to hold the cup beforehand."
I'm pretty sure David grabbed my arm to keep me from fleeing the scene when Santa opened the door to leave.
Probably the worst part of the entire experience was walking out of Sample World and LEAVING THE SAMPLE. Listen, on any other day it wouldn't make a difference. But knowing that this was the only link between "we don't have a baby" and "we do have a baby", it felt horrible just leaving it there on a little table. I wanted to go tell someone to take very good care of it. I wanted to ask them if they could pay close attention to the way they treat it. I wanted to ask if I could be there when they spin it around so I could make sure they didn't mix it up with someone else's. But David assured me that they had done this a time or two before and that the sample would be well cared for. I walked back to the lobby and thought about all the things I should have said to that little cup.
"Listen, guys. You are strong. I know you might not have taken swimming lessons, but you were born naturals. I know it. And I believe in you. If I may, I'd like to give you some guidance. First, swim up and to the right. My left, your right. That's where the egg is. Second, the egg is about 1.8cm. There is a smaller one behind it. Either one is fine. Third, when you find the egg, do whatever it is you're supposed to do when you find the egg. I'm not really sure if you kiss it or hug it or offer a game of checkers. Just do the right thing. And we'll be cheering you on the entire time. I set you FREE! Now get out there and SWIM!"
While we waited in the lobby, another couple walked in. They signed in and sat down. Then, the nurse called the man's name and the couple walked back towards Santa. I chuckled to myself, knowing exactly what they were about to go do. I wanted to shout, "Don't forget to hold the cup!" When they came back, it was strange to sit in the room with them. We all knew why we were there. We could all just talk about how silly this feels, but instead we sat there silently trying not to make eye contact and exchanging low-toned conversations with our partners. Oh well. Maybe the lobby of the fertility clinic isn't the first place people want to find friends.
After 20 minutes of awkward silence, they finally called my name.
Let the insemination begin.
"Listen, guys. You are strong. I know you might not have taken swimming lessons, but you were born naturals. I know it. And I believe in you. If I may, I'd like to give you some guidance. First, swim up and to the right. My left, your right. That's where the egg is. Second, the egg is about 1.8cm. There is a smaller one behind it. Either one is fine. Third, when you find the egg, do whatever it is you're supposed to do when you find the egg. I'm not really sure if you kiss it or hug it or offer a game of checkers. Just do the right thing. And we'll be cheering you on the entire time. I set you FREE! Now get out there and SWIM!"
While we waited in the lobby, another couple walked in. They signed in and sat down. Then, the nurse called the man's name and the couple walked back towards Santa. I chuckled to myself, knowing exactly what they were about to go do. I wanted to shout, "Don't forget to hold the cup!" When they came back, it was strange to sit in the room with them. We all knew why we were there. We could all just talk about how silly this feels, but instead we sat there silently trying not to make eye contact and exchanging low-toned conversations with our partners. Oh well. Maybe the lobby of the fertility clinic isn't the first place people want to find friends.
After 20 minutes of awkward silence, they finally called my name.
Let the insemination begin.
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