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So, after a couple of months of “is it egg whitie enough”, “I think that’s cloudy”, we decided we had our fertile down to day 11. “Ha ha!” said my partner’s body, “you think it’s going to stay that way? Fools”.

We called up our friendly donor and he said he be there ready to go, so to speak. Now we come to the delicate etiquette of the sperm donor’s arrival. You don’t read about it in a Jane Austen novel that’s for sure. Being the honest, up-front girl that I am, I just decided, “to hell with it, this is a weird situation so what’s the point in pretending that my partner’s not in the bedroom ‘getting ready’ and the donor is going to the bathroom with a petit filous pot, perfectly disinfected of course?”.

I have to say, again, that my partner and I are so very lucky with our donor. He’s as unabashed as we are, but then after 12 months of talking and answering questions of every variety, he was probably inured to anything shocking about the process at this stage

All of the reading we had done stated that, for a better chance of success, my partner should be turned-on, ready for the sperm to arrive when she did; if you get me. So, when the donor was done and toddled off with himself (not even a cuppa and a rich tea) I got down to it. Sorry but the puns are just too delicious.

To get the sperm to travel where it needs to, you need to use a needle-less syringe. Needless, I stress…ouch! A 5ml one will do the job as no man can produce close to that amount.  You can get them from any chemist and they’re usually free.

When you’re introducing the sperm to the ovaries, the syringe will naturally go where it needs to, you don’t need to push too much, just guide it in. Inject the sperm in one or two gushes as opposed to a slow drip.

And you’re done.

After all of the years of thinking and talking, finally we’d had our first insemination. It was so exciting! Even though you know that the chances of getting pregnant first time are slim and none, I defy you not to be convinced that you’ll be successful.

My partner and I made all of the right noises about not expecting anything and not being too disappointed if it didn’t take. Liars! When the curse arrived that month, we were gutted.

When, three attempts later, we still hadn’t been successful, my partner was bereft. She thought that is was , and I hate hate hate this phrase, “her fault”. Fault? There is no fault!  The truth of it is that you can be healthy, fertile and having spermtastic sex everyday and still not get pregnant. Sometimes it’s all down to a fluttering of moonbeams and an angels wink. So much of it is out of your control and it’s damned annoying.

It was easier for me to deal with the disappointment as I concentrated on looking after her. Sorrow is less painful when you can heal through caring for someone you love.

After four attempts, we still had had no success and we were wrung out. Separately we had done everything right: me – try to keep her stress levels down, take care of the donor-side of things;  her – take her folic acid, eat properly, keep the alcohol levels down, exercise plenty; both of us – discuss things, check the CM.

Separately too, we dealt with our disappointments. Of course you talk about things but you’ll always hold a bit back for fear of worrying or scaring your partner.The process is exhausting. Each month you think “”this is it”. Each month you think that something you did this month was more accurate than the month before. Your mind hilariously thinks it knows what her body is doing.

After five disappointing months, we decided to take a break. We were emotionally spent. So, we went off on our holliers, she could have a few pints and we chilled the hell out. It was exactly what we needed. I’m not saying that we didn’t talk about it, of course we did, but it was in a more relaxed way. We weren’t as wrought I suppose.

So, after two months of not giving a hoot about CM and of enjoying ovulation of selfish reasons, we were ready to get back in the saddle again.

This time, we were battle hardened. I know that’s a terrible way to look at it, but we were less green, less raw, I suppose.

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