Thursday, January 14, 2010

Sample World

Ok folks, here's where it gets graphic. Avert your eyes if you're sensitive to the anything-but-making-babies-the-old-fashioned-way portion of our blog. Also avert your eyes if you're my mother, who still doesn't know I've actually had sex yet.

After getting THE BIG SHOT at my nurse's house, in her bathroom, next to her husband's toothpaste, I got a good night sleep and geared up for the next day's IUI treatment (read about IUI here if you haven't already). David's call-time was 9am. Mine was 10am. He had to make and leave a sample. The doctor would then take the sample and "spin it down". This is technical speak for "spin it around." Doc would pick the best, strongest, most Iron Man sperm of the bunch and put them into a really long, flimsy syringe. And that's when the magic would happen. Or, at least the magic would be injected into my uterus.
Seeing as how he was hardly involved in the process of making the baby, David really didn't want to march back to "Sample World" alone and leave the lonely little cup for only the nurses and docs to see. He wanted me to go in Sample World with him. I was completely embarrassed and appalled by this thought.
First of all, I was going to have to ASK someone if I could go into Sample World with my husband. I couldn't just sneak in. This felt like high school when you asked if you could go to the bathroom right after your boyfriend 3 rows over asked. The teacher TOTALLY knew you were going to go make out, but you did it anyway because if you didn't, you were the uncool girl who just let her boyfriend walk to the bathroom by himself. LAME.
Second, assuming I got the green light to enter Sample World, I would have to actually go IN there with him. This grossed me out because HOW MANY GUYS HAVE BEEN IN THERE DOING THAT IN SAMPLE WORLD? Assumedly, ALL of them! I guess that for guys it isn't as freaky, but it's all I could think about.
And third...well, third it's Sample World, damnit. That's third.
It was so important to David that I at least be there when the "sample is made" (you know, like normal couples), that I sucked it up and slipped the question into a conversation with Winnie.
"Ok, Erin, so David will go first and if you want to go home or wait around, you can read or surf the internet until we're ready for you."
"Great. I will probably just surf the internet in the lobby. I don't want to drive all the way back home. Can I go with David to leave the sample? I might run downstairs and get a snack before you call me in if that's ok."
Winnie almost whispered, "Sure. You can go with him."
Mortified, I went and found David in the waiting area and told him that I could go to Sample World with him. He was very pleased. I secretly hoped Winnie would say that it was forbidden for girls to enter Sample World. But alas, this was my destiny. When did samples go from being the best thing about Costco to the worst thing about baby-making?
They called our names and we marched back to the boy side of the fertility office. A large, Santa-like man stood wearing scrubs at the end of the hallway. He escorted us Sample World...

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