I have a container of sperm in my armpit people!  I can’t be late.  Today, of all days, I really need for there to not be traffic.  I prayed for everything to go smoothly – so why is this happening?  I hope, I hope that I can get there in time.

I call the clinic and tell them I’m running late.  I watch the minutes tick by on the clock, and try to urge the traffic forward with my mind.  Why do we do that?  Why do we think our “vibes,” or our angry curses will somehow change the traffic patterns.  It never actually works.

I’m twenty minutes late to my appointment – not ideal, but not too late either.  They’re ready to go when I get there.  I take the specimen cup out of its hiding place, gently unwrap the bag, and remove the container.  It’s wet.  The bag is wet.  Oh no!  It was leaking!?  How can this be?  I feel numb as I look at the lab tech who asks me to pass it over, and says that she’ll do her best to get as much sperm as possible.

I’m ushered back out to the waiting room, where I sit and try to come to terms with the fact that today will likely not be the day I get inseminated.  First the traffic, then a leaking cup… thing really aren’t going that well.  I open my book, and get lost in the words.

After about an hour I’m called back and ushered into a small exam room.  The nurse explains to me that we’re ready to go.  “So, “we’re doing everything today still?”  She nods.  “There’s enough sperm?”  She tells me that between 5-10 million is enough, and even with the spillage – there are still 8 million sperm ready to go.  And, in this moment I feel an odd sense of pride over my husband’s sperm. 

I have to take a minute to get used to the idea that this is happening today, I’d been working so hard to convince myself that it would be okay if they told me that I had to wait, that I wasn’t really considering that it might still work out.

I put my feet in the stirrups, they come in with a small syringe connected to a catheter and have me read off the patient identifiers to ensure that it’s the right sperm.  I ask the nurse practitioner if she’s 100% sure that it’s the right sperm, and she confirms that I’m the only person being inseminated this morning.  That’s super good news.  For some reason I was really worried, that that might get messed up – and that sounds like a giant legal nightmare to me – so I’m thankful that there’s not really a chance for a mistake.  I rest easy on the exam table, and the NP gets to work.

After about ten minutes, I ask, “Everything going okay?”

She says, “Yes, just threading the catheter.”  Then, a few minutes later, she adds, “I can’t get it through your inner os, your uterus is bent awkwardly.”

Well, count on my uterus to be awkward.

The nurse practitioner tries for a few more minutes, then the nurse tries, then they agree to get Dr. Yalcinkaya out of surgery so that he can do the insemination.  They give me two water bottles to chug, and inform me that a full bladder will likely help position things better.

I drink quickly, then I recline and read a book (that I am super glad I brought with me).

I'm super into my book, when the doctor come strolling into the room, he sits down on a stool, raises the bottom of the bed, and sticks the catheter straight in.  Easy peasy.  And there you have it folks, I’ve been artificially inseminated.  All I need is ten more minutes of reclining, and I can go back to my usual activities.