Ten things about insemination

Dark. Cosy in bed.

I am judgemental about people who write  blogs with posts that are called things like 7 things I should have done before having a baby or top 3 reasons why we love cloth nappies, because all those dot points seem to say they can only think in bite sized pieces rather than some kind of sequential, coherant whole.

I can't seem to think in any kind of sequential, coherent whole. Bite sized pieces it is.

1. Last night we tried to get pregnant for the first time. We are trying three consecutive days, so tonight will be the second. It was a hugely much bigger deal - emotionally- than I think any of us expected.

2. I won't speak for the others, but what I found hard was the intensity of gratitude I felt. And accompanying fear that it's  too much to ask of them. I find it so hard to handle the idea that Joey and Helen are doing this incredible thing for us, for me, and there is nothing I can do or say to even express how grateful I am. Helen asked if I meant that I feel I need to repay it somehow, or if it is the discomfort of indebtedness. But it's not that. It's really just the overwhelmingness of gratitude. Who would have known that it could be such a difficult feeling.

3. Hollie said, just accept the hugeness of the generosity. You'll give it back to the world, in your own way. I was surprised by that, coming from her, but comforted too. 

4. I said I wouldn't speak for the others' feelings, but I think we all got a pretty big dose of Shit Got Real! It seemed silly, given how much preparation had gone into this. You'd think we'd have been prepared, but we weren't. Hollie (lawyer) made us laugh by worrying about how incredibly unregulated and "off the grid" the process is...

5. The process. I washed three jars, different sizes. All with lids. I had no idea what would be most appropriate! Then we went for a walk, after working out that they would message when we should come home, and that the jar would get tucked somewhere warm. We walked. I freaked out. We got a bit hysterical about how no one knew that we were wandering the streets waiting to get a message telling us that we had sperm waiting for us in a jar. I did that thing with the corner of a park bench to get the top off a ginger beer bottle that needed a bottle opener. Drank ginger beer. Picked lavender.

Then we got the message and so we walked home, took the jar from Joey on the stairs. We all hugged. I thought about how the family from school who lives in the flat below us had no idea what their kid's teacher was getting up to in the stairwell. Helen and Joey went to get icecream. Things felt momentous. Got it in the syringe and the syringe in the right place, and... Well now we just wait and see!

6. The funniest thing - actually from earlier in the day. I had to get a syringe, a medicine one with no needle (obviously), but when I went to the chemist, the ones there seemed way too big. So stupidly I asked if they had any smaller ones and predictably they asked what for. Oh God. I mumbled something about giving the cat antibiotics but having lost the little medicine syringe and left as quickly as I could. But it gave me an idea. Hollie and I may have made a baby, using a nice little syringe that I got from the vet.

7. All the straight women in my life had warned us about the weird/gross factor of sperm. I didn't think it was weird or gross. I was too busy feeling grateful. 

8. After the insemination we did the crossword in bed. We did quite well. It was very soothing. I felt like Hollie and I were really in this whole thing together - I'd been worrying about this part of everything, given how it really shows up how we really can't make a baby with just the two of us. But it felt like we made a baby with the two of us. 

9. Helen and Joey came home and we all had tea in the living room. The cat saw Helen was still jittery and chose to sit on her and go nuts purring and headbutting. I loved everyone so much. 

10. We went to bed. I didn't sleep, but I felt happy. In the middle of the night I got up and peed on all three brands of Ovulation Prediction Kits to see if we'd got the timing right. All three said yes. I went to sleep.

X

Feminist

Cold, dark. Warming up my feet before getting into bed.

Julia Gillard lost the leadership spill tonight. I was moved that what brought her almost to tears was not losing the position, thanking her family, etc, but her hope that the next time a woman made it to being Prime Minister, it would be easier than it had been for her, that having been there first would have made some kind of a difference. 

Closer to home, this week we managed to talk about sperm and how to hand it over. On Facebook. God, what a weird, weird thing this is. Glad to get the logistics sorted though - if we were blushing online, it's probably good we're all clear on what to do in the actual event. 

So soon now. Feeling happy. 

Day One

Sunny. A perfect winter day.

Today is special! Before I started keeping track of my cycle, month by month, I'd always thought of getting my period as being the end of a cycle - my body's way of saying, well, you didn't get pregnant (of course, how would I have?!) so we'll scrap all that and start again in a few days. However, as the fertility charts count it, the first day of your period is the first day of the new cycle, a definitive new beginning. Somehow I've swapped over to that way of thinking, which makes today the first day of the cycle in which we might, MIGHT, make a baby. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

Partly I think I've swapped ways of thinking because of my joy each month over the way that ovulation shows up with all its miraculous temperature shifts and fern shaped patterns on a microscope slide - it means that the excitement is all over by about Day 14 and then it's just about waiting for my period to come so that I can start a new chart. Also, I can see the emotional benefit of understanding it as a new beginning, rather than marking the end of a failed attempt, once we are actually trying to get pregnant. It's a bit kinder on your feelings that way, I guess.

I've been thinking a lot about how it might feel to see 'not pregnant' turn up on the little tester stick thing. The odds are not in favour of getting pregnant first time, apparently. Dr Google seems to say that you have about a 1 in 4 chance each time of getting pregnant, with the reasonably common complication of miscarriage still to add into the equation after that. Another way of looking at it is that on average it takes six months of trying. I'm never sure how to feel about these numbers. Six months is not a hugely long time in some ways... It's only six tries, after all, but then any baby-making site, anywhere on the Internet, has story after story of people who do not get pregnant despite good health and best efforts, month after month, and the people who are telling those stories seem BROKEN by the accumulation of those negative pregnancy tests.

Will I feel broken too, if it takes a while?

My aunts tell me that I come from a line of "one fuck wonders". (Not my words!). I hope I inherited that!

X

How much gratitude?

Sunny Melbourne day! I spent the morning building a chicken pen at school in the warmest of autumn sun.

I got this message this morning: "Soooo, we are just planning July - when are you fertile?"

How much gratitude can you possibly feel? The newspaper is full of disasters, school has been a week of struggle and sadness, but that message makes me feel like the sun shone just for me today.

Questions we get asked

Late autumn. Clouds and sudden sunshine.

Who's going to be the Dad? (Joey)
God, so are you going to have sex!? (I already do. With Hollie)
Who's getting pregnant? (Me)
Are you pregnant already? (No)
How long have you known each other? (We've been friends with Joey 10 years or so)
Oh, so you have to have IVF? (No, not unless there's a problem)
So when's it all going to happen? (July. Argh!)
How did you even bring that up with him!? (Letter. It was hard!)
Doesn't Helen mind? (Short answer, no. But for the beautiful explanation of why and how and what she thinks about it all - well, I guess Helen says it best. I'm just grateful)
What's he going to be - an uncle? (Nope. Sperm's from him... That makes him the father)
Oh... A turkey baster? (10mL syringe)
Are your parents excited? (Oh my goodness, yes)
But what will happen then.. does he have to, you know... (Yep. But I don't have to have anything to do with that bit of it all)
So, will they be able to take you to court for the baby? (Not if it's born in Victoria)
Who goes on the birth certificate? (Me and Hol)
Have they already got kids? (No)
A jar... Are you for real? (Yep)
Sorry, is this too personal? (Um... Well, I guess there's not much 'personal' when you're trying to make a baby with a group of four people)
Are they going to have kids? (Yes, I think so. Maybe not right away. They will be beautiful parents)
Aren't you worried about the whole legal side of it? (Not too much)
So... If they want kids, how come Helen is ok with it all? (She's a truly great person. Also, she just says - "it'll be your kid, we're just helping")
Don't you have to kind of get it in there some kind of special way? (No, the syringe is fine)
Who is going to stay home and look after the baby? (Me, mostly)
Does your school know yet? (No. Well, kind of)
But how long do you have before the sperm, you know, die in the jar? (Surprisingly long)
Do his parents know? (Yes)
Do you reckon Hollie will want to have a baby one day too? (Maybe. Maybe not)
I mean, how is that handover of the jar even going to happen? (Text message to let us know we're good to go probably! "The eagle has landed... You can come back from the pub now!")
Is it that you want a male role model? (Sort of. More that I'd like my kid to know their dad... The guy who made them, it's pretty special, even if he's not parenting in a day to day way)
Would you like to have just had sex? (As above, I already do have sex. With Hollie)
Do you need to get some kind of tests? (Not really)
How did you get all this information about the turkey baster method anyway? ("The complete guide to lesbian conception, pregnancy and birth". It's a great book)
Where will you have the baby? (Home, I hope)
So, Helen... is she, like, some kind of saint? (She's pretty magnificent, yes)
There are books about this stuff? (Sure are! There's a gayby boom, you know)
Will you have to try a few times do you think? (Fingers crossed, no!)

The Plan

Hot - again. The house just isn't cooling down anymore... But Riss has a pool and we have a key!

So, another super positive post... (I just read over the last one and realised what a ramble that was about the joy of hormones... but, oh well... it really does make me happy!)

I wanted to write about how much love and excitement and happiness we get when we tell people about the prospective baby making. The joy it seems to being people is so lovely... and quite a bit flattering. It's a pretty big compliment that people think its a good idea for us to make a whole new person! Joey's cousin (most recently) and Steph (most ongoingly) are especially generous with their excitement and happiness. It's such a nice feeling, and although I'm sure we will get a few funny comments at some point, this seems to be the nicest start we could hope for.

I am also flattered (and surprised!) by how interested people are by HOW it's all going to work. I never thought that other people would be so interested in us and sperm and precisely how we are thinking Joey will fit in after the baby is born. But it's good... the more I've explained it, the less I feel like the awkwardness of the whole thing is totally insurmountable.

So, this is what we are going to do. Joey and Helen live a good seven hours drive away, so first and foremost, there is going to be a lot of travel involved - unless we get pregnant really quickly (but I'm not silly enough to count on it). I think we will share the travel, sometimes going there, sometimes them coming here. We've considered adding some trashiness to the whole thing by splitting the drive and getting a highway motel at the halfway mark. Imagine... 1970s decor.

The travel will be tricky to schedule because I can't plan to ovulate on a weekend but on the months I go there it'll just have to mean taking a couple of sick days which I'm finally starting to accumulate now that I don't catch every bug the kids bring to school.

Then, Joey will hand over the sperm and I'll put it in the right place with a medicine syringe. God knows how exactly we'll do the handover. That's the most awkward part. I honestly can't visualise that bit yet.

After that, it's all exactly the same process as usual, just wait with all your fingers crossed. Apparently there is no disadvantage to doing it with a syringe in terms of your chances, the little guys don't care about their little time in the jar and they are happy to swim regardless of how they get put in place. One thing to know: I've never seen sperm before in my life.

Then... A baby! Hooray! Anyway, thanks everyone for all you good vibes - it makes me feel pretty special!

K.

Mid-cycle happy

The weather is hot and oppressive feeling. One of my lovely boys at school told me that there was going to be a thunderstorm tonight, he seemed very excited about it. We were watching the ants together, swarming the handball squares in that funny thunderstorm way.

I am pretty much bang in the middle of my cycle and, as usual, feeling ridiculously pleased with myself and amazed at how effortless and robust the hormonal shifts and balances are that happen each month. I am so excited every time to see all the signs of fertility magically unfolding and coming together - it makes me think of acrobatics, or dance, that same sense of swooping glorious timing. I remember feeling exactly the same way when I got my period properly after I started eating again at 18, so pleased to find that my body knew what it was doing despite everything I'd put myself through. What a cool thing to have, this magic cycle happily playing out in my body as I just go about my week!

This would be a good cycle to get pregnant in, if we were trying yet... Ovulation on a weekend is far more convenient than midweek for the 7 hour trip we're going to be doing each time!

Testing...

Sunny and bright.

I rang an IVF place today to check if we can get a semen analysis without somehow getting mixed up in any other kind of process (I was a bit scared that I'd be booked in for IVF before I'd got past hello) and the nice lady on the phone made my day by being super excited for us that we had Joey for the baby making. But she did also suggest an AMH test for me (checks how many eggs you likely have left) which I'd never heard of and found out I also don't need in all likelihood. I could hear Mum in my head - "unnecessary intervention!" This must be how it begins - before you even get started on making the baby. Well, I'm watching out for it Mum!