Tuesday, December 16, 2003


There are few things as satisfying as purchasing for your wife the car of her dreams. Today, I purchased a Mercedes Benz ML 320 for my wife. Shhhhh - don't tell her, it is a surprise Christmas gift.

Friday, December 05, 2003


Today is my birthday. I will not tell you how old I am, but my mother was very sad around the time of my birth.

I am the youngest of 4, I was a very sick baby, and came very close to not making it. My parents went into extreme debt because of poor insurance, and had medical bills as high as the value of their house. It took them many years to pay them off.

Both my brother and I were born 9 months after my dads birthday. I think Dad stopped getting sex for his birthday after I was born.

Thursday, December 04, 2003


On my first visit to the fertility office, I had to read the instructions. Did I need instructions on whacking off? It seemed a little ridiculous, but then again - so did the whole turkey baster thing. The preferred method was "masturbation to direct ejaculation" right into the cup. They recommended against oral stimulation - due to the presence of saliva, and the recommended against vaginal intercourse - because they wanted a contamination free sample. So going to the doctors office to get a laid or at least a blowjob was not going to happen. I always thought that my wife should assist with the sample production - but nothing doing. I was on my own.

I remember having a really bad day at work one time. Project going badly, boss is a jerk, stupid ass training session, and finally a long boring meeting. But I had to leave early to go watch porn and jack off.

Tuesday, December 02, 2003

Now - where were we?

The time has come to step this up a notch. My wife heads off to the fertility doctor. It is time to start Intra-Uterine Injections with an instrument called the INSEMINATOR. I never actually saw this thing, but I imagine it is a cross between a turkey baster and Govenor Schwarzenegger.

The process is simple:
1. I produce a sample.
2. They wash the sample.
3. They load the inseminator.
4. They baste my wife.

K goes in for what seemed like daily appointments so they can determine exactly when she is about to ovulate. This entire process is revolving around when that damn egg is about to pop out. I am to be on call to put out immediately upon the doctor requesting it. Good thing I spent my teen years in training for this.

The fertility lab is too far away from my house, so I have to go to their office to produce my sample. This is mildly weird, but I can work with it. I go to the office and find that they seem to employ only women, and many of the women are rather good looking. Once again - I can work with this. Some nice assistant leads me to the gridiron room. This room has a small tv/vcr combo, a cabinet full of porn, a couch covered with a sheet, and a little tiny lock on the door. It was a little awkward being led into the room by this cutie, and having her point out where the porn is stored etc., but I am a dedicated husband, and besides, producing a sample is not entirely unpleasant.

Now the gridiron room is right next to the break room, and I seemed to have scheduled my appointment right at breaktime. So there are about half dozen female voices yacking away on the other side of the thin wall. If I can hear them, then I might want to keep things a little quiet. Distractions aside, I manage to rise to the occasion and produce another fine sample.

I have this mental image of some technician individually washing and handing out very little towels to all of my swimmers. This sort of makes me chuckle on my drive back to work. My wife tells me later that I did indeed supply them with another excellent sample. Good for me.

An hour later, Govenor Schwarzenegger and his turkey baster do their job. We will have a day of cramping, two weeks of waiting, and hopefully we will be knocked up.

No Joy - Better luck next month. We repeat this process for 6 months. No luck.

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