Two Weeks, Too Weak

Well, the sperm has been ordered. In case you're wondering, I'm not even sure if it's our first choice.

While I was away for rugby this weekend, drinking and acting like I was young and single, Mindy was at home buying a book on lesbian pregnancies and ordering sperm.

The sperm will be at our clinic on Thursday. It'll probably be at least 2 weeks until we need to use it.

TWO WEEKS.

In two weeks I could go from a carefree, married rugby chick to a worried, lesbian mom. It's too crazy for me to even comprehend. If Mindy gets pregnant, it's all our fault. I mean, that's a life altering event that we chose. If we aren't prepared, it's our fault; we saw it coming. I can't believe we've made this decision.

Now, I know that when a woman gets pregnant, she's not supposed to tell people for three months because a lot of shit can go down in the first three months. But, since I'm writing this blog for you guys, I promise to tell you as soon as I know and parents and close friends have been notified.

Go ahead and ask If I'm ready. I don't know. I don't fucking know. If Mindy was my age, I imagine we'd wait a few more years. Just a few.

We're in debt. I don't have health insurance. Mindy says our house is too small.

But people have had babies for thousands of years under the same circumstances. But, I guess it was all on accident. If we fail as parents, as providers, we are scum because we made the decision to bring the baby into the world. Jesus. Into a world of war, global warming, hate, hate, hate, pollution, over-crowding, and overeating. Of ipods and text-messaging. Of Brittney Spears and Taylor Swift. Of greed and reality shows.

Of wonder.

What's in a Name?

Not long after the last update, and not long after Mindy started getting depressed about not ovulating, I received a text right before rugby practice, "The stick is purple." I sent back a smiley face. What else could I say?

With that, the baby name conversation started up again (we both have a favorite name--they're both unisex if we say so--but of course, I like one and she likes one). One of the problems with finding a good name is that this kid will have my last name. Go ahead, try to think of a name that sounds nice with "Holzhauser." No matter what, that name just doesn't roll off the tongue. The kid's middle name will be Jacobs so, by default, that kid may be called (insert letter of first name here). J. Holzhauser. AJ, BJ, CJ, DJ, EJ, FJ?,JJ, KJ, LJ, MJ, NJ? OJ!?, PJ, RJ, TJ, VJ (sounds Indian), ZJ (that sounds cool,right, but then that kid will be named Zelda or Zach or ?)

So, all that stress aside, we had a phone conversation with one of the RNs who works at the sperm lab. It's all part of ordering the sperm. She asked Mindy some question about her health, if she knew how to track her cycle and take her temperature, all that stuff. I listened on speaker phone. The lady, Ingrid, (Ingrid Holzhauser?) was very friendly and really sounded like she lovced her job. I know that sounded sarcastic, but I meant it. She was totally cool.

Part of getting sperm is signing a contract that if, god forbid, we had to do in-virto and Mindy made a lot of eggs, and we donated those eggs, we'd have to let the sperm place know. Apparently, the sperm can only go to 20 different families. That's part of the contract that we must sign. I'm glad there's a limit on how many families can be made with one guy's sperm. I mean, evolutionarily speaking, it's the best way to go to spread your seed, guys. But, again, we have to sign a contract for sperm.

At the end of the conversation, Ingrid asked if we had any questions. We didn't. Then she said something really nice, like, "I really hope everything works out for you and your partner. And please let us know when you get pregnant (part of the contract) and please let us know when you have the baby (part of the contract), and we love when people send pictures so we can hang them up here on our bulletin board. We're always so happy to see those little babies."

With that we hung up the phone. Mindy got mushy and I tried my best to hide all the thoughts I was having about little (X) Jacobs Holzhauser. How (s)he'd look like Mindy and be bitter like me, how (s)he'd look when I put him/her in little rugby shirts and skeleton hoodies, how Mindy and I will be proud, hippy parents, how, like my parents did to me, we'll tell the story that starts with, "We wanted you so badly..."

Sperm, Sperm, Sperm

We were gonna give it a go this month, but we thought it was too late to order sperm. Instead, we bought an ovulation kit and Mindy's been peeing on a stick for at least two weeks now. So far, it says she's not ovulating. Or, she's not having some hormone surge that usually means ovulation.

Yes. I have picked out sperm. I had to list my top 5 choices. And I should mention that buying sperm isn't that easy. You have to register with some clinics (150$) and then have your physician sign some forms and fax them in. Of course, you can also have sperm sent to your house in some crazy frozen container (there's a deposit on that container and you have to return it within 30 days) with instructions and a syringe. The fine print said if the syringe isn't in the pack, just use a turkey baster.

My top five choices are as follows:
1. #3912 The Irish/Israeli/Ukrainian Guy who has an MFA in Film and wants to make documentaries.
2. #5579 Norwegian/Scottish/Irish athlete who teaches high school and considers himself to be artistic, laid back, calm, and funny.
3. #5761 Australian/Irish/Scottish guy who likes reading, traveling, and world politics.
4. #4072 English/French/Irish loves films, music and traveling
5. #4276 A French Canadian who considers himself to be logical and athletic.

All of these guys have blonde hair (either light or medium) and hazel or green eyes. Again, what does one even look for in sperm from a man she's never met and will never know?

Meanwhile, babies are everywhere. One of my closest friends has a two month old. My very good German friends are 3 months pregnant. Mindy's coworker is being induced today.

Mindy asked what we'd do if she isn't ovulating. I said we'd talk about it when we were sure.

I know. You're all just pointing a finger at me. Yes, I have ovaries and a uterus and as far as I know they do what they're supposed to.

I have tried, in the past months, to picture myself pregnant. Let me say this: Sperm is gross. I shouldn't be so harsh. I'll try again: Sperm is completely foreign to me.

Only in porn have I ever seen sperm. The closest I've been to it is when I'm talking to some guy, but you know, it's still neatly tucked away in his body.

I have never touched sperm, nor have I seen it in real life. I have no concept of its texture, smell, and yes, I'm going to say it: I have never tasted sperm.

By design, I find it gross. It's something that's alive. It shoots out of a man's body. It swims into another body, pecks away at an egg until it finds its way inside. Now, all you ladies out there who prefer guys, even some of you have admitted your disgust, or at least, apprehension of these little swimmers and the fluid that surrounds them.

I find babies in bodies creepy. They are parasites.

So, to picture myself pregnant I have to picture myself with my legs spread wide in a doctor's office. I have to imagine what it feels like to be speculum-ed. I have to picture my uterus and a tube reaching all the way into it. I have to picture millions of wiggling things I've never seen before living in my body. I can't do it.

On top of that, I have no health insurance, so why even toy with that notion?

And here's a gross fact: "unwashed" sperm inserted directly into the uterus causes cramping.