It's the final countdown...

No smiley face on the teststick!!!
Smiley face means you will need to inseminate within 24 hrs. Had it been tonight I would either have had to skip work tomorrow, or wait until another month.
If the smiley appears tomorrow morning, we can still make it to Copenhagen Saturday morning. Preferably the stick and destiny will smile at us tomorrow night or Saturday morning.
I'm keeping my everything crossed, including my eyes. Ok, that hurt. And made typing difficult.

A feeling of urgency...

stress, longing, anticipation and denial. All rolled into one. Am I REALLY going to try to get pregnant this weekend?
THIS weekend?
And sign on for a life-long comittment?
I might be pregnant next week!

No more champagne, no evening of dinner and drinks as planned with my friend. A possible tornado of nausea, morning-sickness, fatigue and weird physical reactions known only to those who's been down the pregnancy path before me. Will I be showing by the time it's time to negotiate a new salary at work and will I, like millions of other women, be discarded as second-class workforce in that case?

Wifey is working out of town this week. Most of my friends are on vacation or busy.
I took myself to the park with a picnic-dinner for one and a lesbo magazine.
Time alone. Another thing to put on the list of bye-bye's.

Browsing the magazine's articles of how to survive pride, get laid, be a non-bio lesbo mom, deal with period's as a butch etc was a welcome antidote to everyday life in heteroville.

I remember the magazines I used to read as a teenager and in my early 20s. Magazines on how to brush up, push up, do make up and what-ever-else-up to catch a man and keep him. Thank God I found myself inspite of all the brainwash. Thank Godess for wifey and our life together.

And I feel so blessed. And so ready. And suddenly that night out with drinks is not on the top of the list. While trying to get our little egg inside my body meet with a little sperm from a donor of our choice seem like the miracle of all miracles. The miracle I've been preparing for and longing for all of my life.

And anyways, one could always get a babysitter for the little miracle and head out for a night of drinks with friends. Though something tells me that might not be a priority any longer.

God, I miss wifey. I'm gonna call her later, put the phone on my stomach and ask her to bless my eggs. Or perhaps the other way around. Or she might think I hung up on her.

Bienvienue! It's too hot to live, so I'm starting a blog instead...

It is a very hot July afternoon here in Stockholm, Sweden. The hottest in 16 years, the news say. I sat all day at work and dreamed of swimming laps in the pool. Instead I ended up eating ice cream and starting a blog.
Let me explain people. I'm under a lot of pressure here. Not that chocolate ice cream has ever done anything to relieve pressure, I actually think that medically it might add pressure by clogging up arteries.
The pressure I'm talking about is after about a zillion months of dreaming, planning, taking all the neccessary steps, we're just days away from possibly trying our first go at IUI!!!

The We here is my beautiful, love of my life, wife-to-be (let's just call her wifey for short) and I.

Wifey is absolutely certain it will be a hole-in-one, super-sucess, one-try-knocks-up-all! Me, I'm not too certain. Actually I have a sneaking suspicion it might not work at all. Despite of all the test results saying I'm as good as new.
"Practically a teenager", the midwife said. Then she went on to calling us virgins. I was shocked and thought for a split second it was some heterosexist remark about us supposedly not having had sex with men. But it was a reference to us never having tried to get pregnant before. I'm not sure if it was the Danish translation, but I thought it sounded really weird.

Being called a virgin at anything at the age of 30+ surely is a compliment? Or does it just mean you're so far behind everyone else you can't even see the back of the wagon you fell off of anymore?
I couldn't help but think of Madonna straddling a gondola in wild hair and lace corset. It made me instantly feel better! As Madonna always does. Thank you Madonna, patron-saint of wayward women!

The lesbian life of trying of get pregnant consist of a lot of new practices. For instance you learn a lot of new tricks. One of them is peeing on a stick. I had some early practice in my teen years when I dated boys and all you did was trying NOT to get pregnant and ruining your life.
Now the tables have turned, ladies, but the angst is no less, let me assure you!

Being a natural planner/organizer (obsessive/hoarder) I orderd 4 pacs of ovulation tests online. I now have over 30 sticks to pee on. Anything worth doing is worth doing well.

Something else you're suppose to do is get up in the middle of the night (6 am) to take your temperature every morning. I ordered a themometer at a website called baby-or-not to get one with 2 decimals; apparently very important in this line of work. But really, baby or not, what kind of depressing name is that? Isn't maybe baby , or hopefully baby, or braver; baby on the way!, better names? Need I add the site was Danish?

The Danes are a big part of lesbian babymaking here in Sweden. We don't go for the pasteries and the Tuborg, but out of neccesity. Swedish law forbids you to do anything fun and exhilarating, like having a baby with your girl with a donor of your choice.
Yes, it certainly is possible to have a baby via insemination as a lesbian couple in Sweden. It is however not possible to chose the genetics. The donor is chosen for you by some faceless, bleak government employee.
Having my professional career closely related to the field of genetics and seeing it's impact everyday at work, having a donor with unknown background was just not an option.
If you would still choose the Swedish route, you will also have to wait in line for 1:3 year. Just to add to all the fun.

I shouldn't be too hard on the Swedish system. We might have to turn to it if we go broke trying in Denmark.
The perk of the Swedish system is that it cost no more that a trip to your local gynecologist to get knocked up. And it is probably just as romantic and relaxing.

I try not to stress out completely - easier said than done. I have sudden cravings for chips and beer and all sorts of things I usually only eat/drink at really boring parties to keep myself awake. I'm most definately in LPPS; lesbian pre-pregnancy stress mode .

I try to listen to wifey and stay positive. Weirder people than me with worse medical history has gotten pregnant. This thing just might work, with or without chocolate ice cream.