We drove to Rocket Man and WTF’s house in the afternoon, and the kids enjoyed some playtime then we had an early dinner. Yes, they gave us sperm AND cooked the following meal for us: ribs, mediteranian coucous, swiss chard, fresh corn, and a tamale for S who is vegetarian.
It was all very lovely. The only sucky part was the part where I pulled the sperm out of the vajayjay with the speculum.
I KNOW you are not supposed to use one. WE THOUGHT WE WERE PROS. We thought we, well I thought I, could get that thing out without pulling all the sperm out with it.
Why, you ask, would I think this nonsense? Clearly I am insane.
I am clutsy. I trip. I break things. Why would I ever think I could be a ninja inseminator?
I’m surprised the whole thing did not end up on the floor, with me trying to scrape off “just the top” like you would with a cheesecake that splatted on the floor.
We’ll consider this the practice run, since the timing is unlikely anyway.
They are great, and we left later that evening. Not weird at all. I keep expecting to feel like we are making a giant mistake, or get all freaked out that we are using Yuppie Rocket Man’s (his name is now Rocket Man, but I’ll add an adjective now and again) sperm, who we have known for so many years. But it just isn’t weird.
We go back on Wednesday, day of O, to try again.