The twins that almost weren’t…

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(I started this post on May 4, 2009, the day of my successful IUI.  Because I can’t believe my fabulous twins were justthisclose to not being conceived that ridiculous day I really wanted to tell the story, even if it is almost two years later…)

I am supposed to be going in for my IUI this morning.  I thought I had probably worried about every possible thing that could go wrong–ovulating too early, too late, not at all…Turns out, I didn’t even think about the one variable that would make the IUI completely impossible.

I woke the husband up at 6:45 so he could make it to the office by 7:30 with his sample.  He kissed me on the forehead and left our bedroom to find a secluded spot to wack off.  This will be our 4th insemination, so I’m used to the drill, as is he.

We have four cats, the youngest of which is not yet spayed.  She’s been in heat for a couple days now and just wanders around the house with her butt in the air, making cooing noises.  It gets pretty annoying and I eventually get exasperated with her behavior and yell at her to cool it because it doesn’t matter how trampy she behaves, no one in this house is going to have sex with her.  But that doesn’t stop her from trying.  Incessantly.

So I’m laying in bed, morning sunlight streaming in through the window, hurting my eyes and preventing me from going back to sleep for another hour.  I’ve got too much on my mind to sleep anyway.  I’m nervous about the IUI.  It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve done it before, my stomach is in knots.  I wonder how long I’ve been laying there and where S is.  I wonder if he left without saying goodbye.

A few minutes later he comes crashing into the room.  He throws his little plastic cup as hard as he can against the wall, which isn’t very hard because an empty disposable cup is light, and lets out a stream of unintelligible curses.  I’m able to pick out ‘Motherf*cking cat’ and ‘orgasm’ but the rest is lost between the buzzing in my head and what I’m sure is his incoherent rambling.  All I can think about is the empty cup.  It’s empty.  Why is it empty????? I start to panic on the inside, but know enough to force my appearance to remain calm.

‘Please calm down and tell me what happened.’  I wonder who is using my body as a puppet, because surely I couldn’t be so under-control.

He starts sputtering about the cat and the cup and almost getting the sample when she started circling his legs and making that sound she makes when she’s really horny…

Oh God, he didn’t get it. I have to look away because I feel my eyes getting wide with panic.  I see the clock and it’s 7:15.  The doctor’s office is a half hour away and he needs to be there by 7:30 with a sample he doesn’t even have yet.  Puppetmaster senses my extreme distress and takes over.

‘Just go back in the bathroom and shut the door.  I’ll call the doctor and say you’re running late.’

‘No, no you don’t understand.  It went down, it’s not going back up.  It’s too late.’

‘Okay, it’s fine.  Just go downstairs and watch some TV.  Maybe if you get your mind off it for a while…’

‘Fine.’  He leaves the room and I curl into a ball of panic and nerves.  Irrational thoughts have taken over my brain.  I wonder where I can get some sperm at the last minute.  Could I convince some guy on the street to let me have some?  I don’t even care if it’s S’s or not at this point, I just need some for the IUI.  It will still be my baby at least…

It’s been 10 minutes.  I go downstairs to check on him.  I’m losing my cool and find him on the couch watching cartoons.

‘Do you need some help?’ I say with zero sex appeal.

He looks at me with no small amount of irritation and says, ‘No.’

I go back upstairs.  I can’t believe this is happening.  I spent our last $2200 on this cycle.  I gave myself shots for two weeks, got my blood taken every other day, ultrasounds…all for nothing. And it was our last chance. I am laying in our bed again, curled up, consumed with self-pity, crying.  I have officially lost my cool.  Puppetmaster is gone – she has abandoned this sinking ship.  It’s almost 8:00 when he comes into the room to kiss me good-bye.

‘Where are you going?’ I ask him tearfully.

‘To drop this off, where do you think?’  He holds up the cup, which at this point might as well be a golden chalice with lights emanating* from all sides – the freaking Holy Grail of Sperm.  I laugh a kind of hysterical, nervous laugh and spring out of bed to call the office.

‘I have to call, what should I tell them?’

‘I don’t care, just say I’m running late.  Or tell them the truth, it doesn’t matter.’

I call.  I explain the situation to the receptionist who, from her nonchalant reaction, has heard this story before.  I call S and with that same hysterical laugh, I tell him if I get pregnant, I’m telling our kid this story when he/she is older.

**I didn’t know how to spell ’emanating’ and my first attempt was wrong.  Spell check changed it to ‘inseminating’ which I thought was freaking hilarious, considering the subject of this post.

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