The Worst Sex of My Life

I was listening to the radio, and the DJ mentioned that this next song was "Baby making music."  My first thought was, "She doesn't have fertility issues."

Having sex to have a baby, when you have fertility issues, is the worst and least sexy sex there is.  I would pick, "MMMM Bop" by Hanson as the song that represents my baby-making journey.  SO NOT HOT.

Here is the story of my worst baby-making sex ever.

We were renting a beach house with Brian's family.  This house was small, old, and rustic. And our room was next to the kitchen. So you get where I'm going with this. We had to have sex in a cardboard box with his parents and sister in the next room.

I had brought my economy pack of ovulation sticks and had been charting every morning keeping a keen eye on each test result. 

The ovulation day was here.

I told Brian that we need to get this done immediately before we head out for the day and potentially miss the window (this is before I created my much easier technique to concieving naturally for you).  

I could hear every move his family was making in the kitchen, so I knew that they would hear every move that we made. Gross.  I was officially not ok with this, but I was manic at this point trying to get pregnant.

We got on the bed.  It was the LOUDEST bed that I had ever heard in my life.  The springs were probably 20 years-old, and they screamed when you just got on top of them.  Nope, nope, nope.  Not happening here.

Brian goes to turn on the shower to help drown out the noise.  This effort does not make even a little difference in the volume of the screaming bed springs.  

We got on the floor to avoid making any noise.   It was the oldest, hardest, hardwood floor.  Ouch, ouch, ouch, nope, nope, nope.

I was in hell, but I could not express this for fear that he would not be able to perform.  Now, Brian has never had an issue, but I am guessing if he saw my face reflect my true feeling- that I was in hell and did not want to have sex and would DIE is his family knew what we were doing, he might take longer to finish and I couldn't risk this process being delayed even a second longer.

We decide to stand up since the bed and floor were not a possibility.  Well, my husband is 6' 6" and I am 5' 6". So I kinda needed to hold on to something.

I know, I know!!   This is WAY too much information, and Brian's family has never heard this story before, and I'm pretty horrified right now, so let's continue anyway...

We decided to go to the bathroom so I could hold onto the sink, and we could finally get this horrible experience over.  Note, I just described having sex with my husband as a horrible experience, but that is genuinely what baby-making sex is like when you have fertility issues, right?!

We got into the steaming hot bathroom.  Brain had turned on the HOT water when he started running the shower to drown out the noise.  This was the middle of summer in a tiny bathroom. It was so hot.  No, not hot is a sexy way, but hot in a, "Holy sh*t I can't breathe!" way. 

But there was no time to reverse the steam and cool down the bathroom.  I was even more self-conscious that we were taking so long to "get ready"  and our family might guess what we were doing.  

I just needed to get this done.

So now we're in the bathroom in front of the sink, and I realized that my face is right there in the mirror.

Normally this would be a good thing, right? My husband watching my face filled with such joy and fun and pleasure, but I felt none of those things.  I was embarrassed, worried, and self-conscious that our family knew we were doing it in the bathroom.  

At that moment, I wished that I had a cocktail for breakfast and then knew what I had to do- show "good face" in the mirror.

Yup, I faked face.  But I didn't fake the big O though- I have too much respect for myself for that one.  

That was the last month we tried to have a baby naturally before discovering we had to do IVF.

Fertility issues gave me a new meaning to the phrase, Baby-Making" anything, but it also got me out of the awkward situation of telling my kids which [insert room in the house, car, hotel room, outdoor festival] they were conceived in. 

I sort of like that I get to tell my children the real story of their conception- in a lab with mommy and daddy in separate rooms, and "MMMM Bop" playing in the background.