artificial insemination kit for humans
Written by Alyssa Shelasky
In the sterile room, dressed only in a paper gown, a straightforward nurse named either Mary or Linda instructed me to lie back and relax. My mom, my ever-supportive partner-in-crime, held my hand tightly. I placed my feet in the stirrups — definitely not a scene from a Shakespearean play — and shut my eyes. I could sense my mother channeling her hopes and dreams through her gentle grip into my anxious skin. As Mary or Linda skillfully worked her magic with the wand and the sperm, I attempted to detach from reality and find a peaceful place in my mind to welcome the magic.
Once the procedure wrapped up, the nurse informed me I could take a few moments to let everything “settle.” Before she exited, I touched her wrist and expressed my gratitude for aiding in my family journey. “Good luck,” she replied, sounding neutral. After she left, I told my mom I wanted to focus and meditate for a few minutes, keeping my legs elevated to help the sperm do their job. But she had other plans.
“Did you bring a vibrator?” she whispered, way too loudly.
“What? Mom! No! Why would I…”
She had come across an article suggesting that having an orgasm post-IUI could mimic “real sex” and improve the chances of success. Surprisingly, the idea made a bit of sense, but still! Absolutely not.
Ignoring the awkward factor, my vibrator had been out of commission for at least two years. The fact that I couldn’t muster up the energy to find its charger amidst the chaos of my drawer filled with broken headphones and random items was definitely not a great reflection of my domestic skills. But hey, neurotic parents raise neurotic kids, right?
My mom didn’t care about my lack of a sex toy as she squeezed herself into the tiny medical closet, urging me to “do it the old-fashioned way!”
Now, we’ve always been a wild and adventurous family, but her suggestion to take matters into my own hands for another grandchild was stretching it, even for me.
Did she listen? Oh, absolutely not.
However, her outrageous antics ended up bringing more laughter than discomfort. The image of my mom shouting, “Think of Dr. Thompson! Think of Dr. Thompson!” — my charming fertility doctor whom we both had a crush on — was enough to make me burst into laughter.
We shared giggles as I got dressed and even as I paid the otherwise mundane IUI bill. We laughed on the way back home, my head resting on her shoulder through fits of laughter. We recounted our crazy day to everyone we met, and the more inappropriate the audience, the better the reaction. That night, we even laughed ourselves to sleep. I truly believe that our shared joy made a significant difference.
Fast forward seven or eight weeks later, we found ourselves back in that same room, this time with my sister in tow. Dr. Thompson entered (if only he knew what had transpired) and applied some cold jelly to my stomach. I was already aware of my pregnancy thanks to the countless tests I had taken and the many falafels I had devoured. But I also knew it was early, and there were no guarantees that this pregnancy would progress.
“Your baby has a heartbeat,” Dr. Thompson stated calmly, with a hint of excitement. “A strong, healthy heartbeat.”
“Is everything going to be okay, Dr. Thompson?” I asked, my heart racing. My sister was in tears. My mom was glowing. Dr. Thompson finally broke into a broad smile — the one I had been hoping for. “All I can say is: you’re in the game.”
For more insights on home insemination, check out this excellent resource. Also, if you’re interested in artificial insemination kits, this site is a great authority on the subject. And for more engaging stories like this, visit this blog.
Search Queries:
In summary, this lighthearted reflection on the journey to motherhood highlights the importance of humor and support from family during challenging times. The unexpected moments, like a mother’s quirky suggestions, can often lead to joy and connection that make the experience unforgettable.