Our very first P-Day

So the memory that's been on my mind a lot lately is the very first time we went in to try for P (which is what we are calling the baby right now).

Sidebar - I was apparently confused about whether or not we were telling people the name Suellen and I have picked out. I thought we were, but we are not. This has landed me in a bit of hot water; so, if you want to know any other name hints, talk to Suellen. I'm not saying anything any more.

Anyway, we first started trying back in June of 2007, which for us really meant a lot of meetings. And interestingly enough, a large discussion about whether or not Suellen was immune to Rubella (blood tests were taken, screwed up, taken again, shots were given, it was not a fun time). So, we had finally arrived at June and were ready to give it a go. We had picked out a donor. He was a dancer with blond hair and blues eyes (like me - the hair and eyes, not the dancing) and didn't have any family health issues. Of course, we had picked him, had him shipped on ice, and then decided we didn't like the fact that he was short and skinny. But, we figured we'd try (you can't really return it), and if it worked then it was meant to be, and if it didn't, then God was giving us a chance to change. None of this really has anything to do with the story.

So, it's June. The nurse comes out into the waiting room and calls us back. Suellen has to double check and sign that the vials match what she order, and then it happens. The nurse hands me the vial of baby juice to 'keep warm'. Eww. While I am pleased to be part of the process as 'baby juice warmer', this completely weirds me out. But we keep walking down the hallway and arrive at the exam room, all the while I am holding this little vial of pink-dish-soap-looking baby juice in a vice grip for fear that it might suddenly get a chill. The nurse ushers us in to where Dr. DHM has readied several instruments that look more painful than I want to think about, including some that light up, and leaves.

So here I am, holding the baby juice, squinting at it, trying desperately to decipher whether or not the swimmers are even in there while Suellen gets on the table, feeling quite squeamish and very nervous. Then Dr. DHM comes in. There is a small amount of explaining of the procedure, none of which I actually understand, I hand over the juice and pick up Suellen's hand, and Dr. DHM starts to do her thing.

Then this little thing clicks in my head. I am scared shitless.

Don't get me wrong, I'm being supportive. I'm standing there, telling Suellen it will all work out. But in my head, I'm doing one of those slow motion movie moments where the hero leaps across the table screaming 'Noooooooooooooooooooo' and knocks the world-ending device out of the villian's hand. Yeah. That's me. In my head, crazy light up torture devices are flying everywhere.

Of course, I'm really doing nothing but standing next to Suellen, holding her hand and looking awkwardly at the floor.

Needless to say, we did not get pregnant that try, which means we will not have a freakishly small dancer baby. (hahaha - "Tiny Dancer Baby" - oh Elton John how I love you). And, I was not nearly as scared for the other attempts. In hindsight, it's probably better that I had a little extra time to get mentally ready.

Now I need more time to get physically ready. Tomorrow's to do list involves, cleaning the bathrooms, moving furniture for painting, buying the paint so that Suellen's sister can help us this weekend, and cleaning out the garage. Yikes!