my obsession with the condom aisle

tonight we were at target and I scoped the condom area to see if there were dental dams included in the mix. no dental dams. and yes, I do scope these aisles almost every single time i am in a drug type store. there are never dental dams. never ever ever.

over the years the variety of condoms and other straight sex paraphernalia (or at least marketed for straight sex paraphernalia) has increased by leaps and bounds. in this day and age all of you limp dicked fellows can buy a condom with a vibe built right in so your stick gets a tickle of intense delight and maybe it also pleases your partner-- m or f, but i would not know cause i do not have a real cock/fake cock that needs covered with such a device.

woah, i just reread those two sentences and they seem a little pornographic and really this blog was supposed to be about my obsession with checking the condom/ky jelly for him and her (never her and her or him and him)/vibrating condom aisle to see if, miraculously, dental dams were being stocked, but alas my words digressed to the vibrating condom. If any of you have used these special 6 dollar condoms, please do tell about the effectiveness of such a device here in the comment section.

the safe sex aisle at the drug store is all about the condoms. now, some of you might think it is fine to simply cut up a condom and make your own dental dam, but that entails needing scissors or a razor blade or a knife in what could be a hot moment.

and since there are never any dental dams sold at drug stores, you should know how to make one just in case!

kk and I engage in let it all hang out sex cause we only have sex with one another. But let me tell you a brief story that set me on this path of scoping out the condom/ky jelly/intense heat for her or him aisle. Many years ago when kk and i fucked like rabbits one or two or three times a day, we each got our own bout vaginal bacteria infections. the doc advised us to use dental dams, but alas there were no fucking dental dams to be found anywhere except of course good ol' planned parenthood. After looking for dental dams to no avail, I vowed to wage a letter writing campaign to walgreens to express my outrage at their lack of sensitivity to oral sex lovers everywhere, but i let that battle go:)kk and I took a break from feasting on one another, our bouts of yickiness cleared up and then we went back to the delights of all different ways to do it and be pleased!

I still always scope the drug stores just in case one day I am surprised and I can truly let the battle for more dental dams go.

Below is some information on dental dams from Brown University's health page. Bravo Brown for giving the DD some recognition!

What is a dental dam and why should I use one?
Dental dams are small, thin, square pieces of latex that are used for oral-vaginal or oral-anal sex. They get their name from their use in dental procedures. Dental dams help to reduce the transmission of STIs during oral sex by acting as a barrier to vaginal and anal secretions that contain bacteria and viruses. They come in a variety of sizes and flavors - so you can find a dam that satisfies your tastes.

How effective are they in preventing STIs?
Because dental dams act as a barrier to bodily fluids, they help reduce STI transmission. Many STIs, such as herpes, genital warts and HIV, can be transmitted through oral sex. Like condoms, dental dams must be used correctly and consistently in order to be effective.

How do I use them?
Although it may seem a little awkward to use them at first, dental dams are extremely easy to use. Before using the dam you may want to rinse off any powder that's on the dam and check the dam to make sure there are no holes or perforations. The partner performing oral sex will hold the dam against the vulva or anus of the receiving partner. You can opt to apply a lubricant on the vulva or anus before using the dam. The lubricant can help increase the sensation for the recipient. Just make sure the lubricant is a water-based lube because oil-based lubes and lotions can degrade the latex and decrease the dam's effectiveness.

When you use the dental dam, be sure to ONLY use one side. Don't flip the dam over for another round because you will expose yourself to the very fluids you're trying to avoid! And do not re-use a dam on another body part (e.g. from anus to vulva or vice-versa) because you can transfer germs from one body area to another. Do not re-use a dam for another act of oral sex later on either. Dams are for one-time use only.

Won't using a dental dam diminish the whole experience of oral sex?
Many people believe that using a dam will nullify the enjoyment of oral sex. That's not how it has to be! Granted, the feeling of latex will be different than a tongue, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Using a dental dam with lube can offer your partner a new type of stimulation. Although oral sex is considered less risky than vaginal or anal sex, there is still a risk of transmitting STIs. To be as safe as possible, use a dental dam for every act of oral sex.

a perfectly beautiful uterus and other stuff...

me in four square costume
another crazy ass week is biting the dust. we've been busy little reproducers. a visit to the re happened last friday and k got her female organs prodded and picture snapped.

the doctor said all her soft, fleshy baby-making stuff (uterus, tubes, cervix, etc) are just perfectly beautiful.

we breathed a heavy sigh of relief with an anguished question of really? oh damn? connected to the relief sigh. mostly, we wanted to know why the fuck she has not gotten knocked up yet if everything is so perfectly beautiful.

this doctor was different than the other doctor cause other doctor was on vacay, but we think that k may need to go on clomid just to get her hormones in a perfectly succinct dance.

we've still been trying this time around. for what it is worth...?

My left knee ballooned up last thursday and is still swollen and it has me very pissed cause i've refrained from riding my bicycle for a few days and that makes me antsy and angry. see, i was on a roll--up until balloon knee--I had been putting 100 or more miles a week on the new bicycle. at 12 weeks old she had 1205 miles on her and now it is all at a stand still. my knees do this shit about twice a year and i am tired of it cause i am only 32...what will happen when i am 60?

last friday evening i participated in a four square tournament. i played on team rocket. we did not win, but we had the best costumes and did win a trophy named jan for our attire.
team rocket

Our good friend KG was in town all week and we had plenty of fun and good times.

and saturday we leave for vacation. carp lake here we come. we will be staying at k's dad's all seasons resort. This is my eighth summer going up there for vacay--it is kind of crazy how time flies.

suck nuts

not that I like to.
but I am sad—oh yes—once again.
because—you guessed it—k started bleeding Wednesday, yet again.

I’ve sort of lost count now but I think this is 13 times with no success.

so. suck.

she got her blood drawn friday for all the hormone testing.
we dropped a cup to potential bio dad for the sperm testing.
and Friday k will go get the ultra sound, etc.

I am also mad, not just sad, that I ever got in the business of wanting a kid.

cause it is getting too fucking complicated and I am tired of it.

i really did not have my hopes up this time i am convinced that something is up with kk's insides or that something has gone amiss with bio dad's fluids, but it is all a bit emotionally exhausting and for some reason i seem to take it worse than my lovely. i mean i have even started seriously contemplating what it would be like for me to be pregnant for 9 months and how i would need to learn to pack my fears in a tight little bag and banish them to the place beyond the atmosphere. this contemplating is strange territory for me and very premature, but these visions of a pregnant me are haunting my head and they are weird indeed!

bug juice and human juice

this morning i got up and watered the garden. i found some brown metallic bugs mating and eating big jagged holes in my zinnias, so i caught some of the sticky legged critters and squished them and mixed them up in the watering can and drenched the hole riddled plants with the deadness.

then i went pee and washed the sticky bug residue from my hands, only to find the jam jar with last night's sperm spendings soaking with the syringe in the bathroom sink. I thought about bug guts mixing with the little bits of sperm and water and reflected on how lucky i am to have such diverse and cycle-of-life connected fluids all around me.

after much deliberation and debate, we have decided to do it ourselves again this month even though k cannot get in to see the repro doctor until next week.

We were going to skip the next couple of months and wait on the results of all of the testing that i am sure he will order, but then well what the hell? we might as well keep kk's parts use to all that male sticky stuff.

i am not very hopeful that this do it ourselves while kk has low progesterone again will work, but there is something to keeping the patterns of our lives fluid and together. so, this effort is that--an effort in not-giving-up and staying with it and charging along as though a miracle might happen and realizing that waking up every morning and feeling the humid air of summer creep over my skin and the gooey gush of plant eating bugs spilling over my fingers and experiencing the presence of the night sky falling around me every late evening and the bats circling through the dusky sky and the buzz of summer creatures saturating the heavy air--realizing that all of this is miracle enough.

iui #2 continued

Scene 12
I did eventually wake up after going to bed...and then kk told me i could not just end it like i ended it. I had yet to include the most important parts.

So the saga continues...for one more scene at least.

Scene 13
kk is up in the stirrups. her orangy colored hair compliments the light brown sheets and her brown collar shirt marvelously. Her sun soaked skin is almost like caramel in this setting.

All the ladies are in the room--the midwife S, M the apprentice, and K the apprentice and yours truly (but I am something not-quite-lady like). I hold kk's hand and the three woman stand around her spread eagle legs.

S preps the speculum and slides it into kk, but kk winces so M runs and gets a smaller one (this is strange cause kk is usually wide enough for various objects, but those plastic speculums suck ass and pinch vaginal walls). When she is all propped, S slides the long thingy up to her cervix then through the first hole and then tries to push on into the uterus, but alas kk is blocked (she may have already dropped the egg).

S pulls it back out and kk puts her legs up on S's shoulders and she tried again, but no go. So I just press the thingy and shoot it in her cervix and so is life...

The end of iui #1

p.s. you are all real sweet with your comments and good lucks and such--thank you

iui #1

oh.oh.oh.
oh, how I wish so bad that I had my camera today to document our first midwife iui. It was quite a ride, and now, you who dare to read on, will have to hear all about it.

Scene 1
Morning
kk pees on stick--positive
the injector says, "I told you you should have peed on it last night cause I know it was positive then too."
kk, "I would have to go and get more of this these wasteful sticks."
the injector, "wah, wah, wah."

Scene 2
Injector riding by self to work.
The injector out loud while riding, "today will be hectic. kk will get them all scheduled: donor, midwife, me and kk. does it matter? not really, cause I think we are late. too bad that sucks. we are always too late or too early, or maybe kk's stuff is all dried up? or maybe we are not supposed to have kids? or maybe the world is straight up overpopulated and this is a sign? This trying and trying and no go is some kind of sign. well, there is always my womb. Oh, but then i would have to go without riding my bicycle for a few months...wah wah wah..."

Scene 3
Injector arrives at work with frozen toes
It is unseasonably cold in Michigan and I wore my sandals cause it was supposed to rain all day and I did not want wet runners. Did it rain? of course not.
VM from kk, "Be to S's by 10:45." Talk to kk in live person format. "kk you need to be to her place by 10:45 we have to be there by 11." Note: This means donor has less than one hour to get from ann arbor to ypsilanti; whack his lovely junk; kk get from ann arbor to his place and claim his lovely junk and then kk get back to ann arbor--the center of town on a market day (that's the farmer's market)--NO PARKING for people who drive cars.

Scene 4
Injector on phone with a parent of a client. It is not a good conversation. I will not go into it here because some readers may not understand the complexities connected to my sarcasm, but I am on the phone way too long and furious by the end of the conversation.
Injector leaves work AT 10:45 due to dumb person and simultaneously fuming about the difficulties some people have to go through to get pregnant and the ease that other people (dumb asses in particular) encounter.
Injector arrives by bike at midwife's office at 10:53 and locks bike to a pole. walks into waiting room. good feeling. hostility connected to earlier conversation eradicated.
kk is nowhere to be found.
Injector drinks lots of water.
kk, "I just got the sperm five minutes ago. I am on washtenaw. I will be five more minutes. Come outside and grab the jar from me so S can start the washing process."

the injector, "yes mam."

Scene 5
11 minutes later kk arrives in car on corner with sperm. Injector runs out and claims the jiz wrapped in a large gray smart wool sock. Injector stuffs aforementioned jar in pocket and dodges traffic while crossing back to office/clinic.

Scene 6
Waiting for kk to park while S preps the protein fluid and sperm and vile and all that jazz connected to this process. Injector told to hold jar close and not tip it so that the sperms can swim into the protein fluid and be washed of the stuff that comes off in the cervical canal.

Scene 7
kk arrives and she is beautiful beyond beautiful.

Scene 8
holding sperm for a long time while missing meeting for work. Happier holding sperm than meeting for work.

Scene 9
realize not enough protein fluid in vile. Restart process of holding sperm filled vile with more protein fluid added. During waiting time talk with midwife S and her two very sweet and kind apprentices about many things. Finally, conversation turns to the dangers (actually risks but danger lights went off in my head) of iui. Did you all know a person receiving sperm into uterus can go into anaphylactic shock? Bet ya did not know and now I do and boy did it freak me out and make me say glad it is not me cause I would make myself into a frenzy thinking about the ways in which my body could really truly physically reject sperm and simultaneously kill me.

Scene 10
It is washed and K gets in the stirrups and then S tries to get it through to her uterus but her cervix has already shut and so...

yes. big let down. it is just injected high up into her cervix.

Scene 11
I have to go to bed

mad-fucking-rabbits

I could go on and on about how this spring time is full of life and all that jazz and then some more about all the green things peeking up from the dark thick soil that is still probably shaking off the cold from the fierce winter we endured in these parts and how that life energy could potentially be transferring itself into the reproductive arena of kk’s organs, but I will save such words for the poets.

We have been trying this time around like mad-fucking-rabbits, and by mad-fucking rabbits, I do literally mean rabbits that are fucking to reproduce. Not that we have been fucking like mad in the process. But we have been having our potential kid’s bio-dad whack and wiz the jiz and then we have been shooting it all up inside kk like it is some kind of healing liquid—like the rest of our living depends on the liquid moving into something else—becoming a living organism.

I would not call it getting my hopes up. It is just that I’ve been thinking maybe this time around something different than what has been happening (which is absolutely nothing) will happen. Maybe something new will happen cause it is the first time we’ve tried 8 or so days in a row; it is the first time I actually missed an insemination and it is spring, after all. The miss was really hard for me, but maybe the absence of my dirty finger-nailed hands plunging the syringe deep into the fleshy parts of my kk was a good change of scenery for the spermage and kk’s parts. And now she has so many little sperms up in her who knows if the one that ends up sticking was injected with or without my presence.

As for hoping, I will leave it to the wind this time around. I do not want to climb into that place of pitter-patter, heart-sputtering excitement. I do not want to create little schemes in my own head about the future. I want to be here in the present, in the now, enjoying this weather and the growing of things and the life that is all around me—the life that is here now—not the life that may eventually join us.

the sliver bullet and reality reflection

Thanks for the tips on the orgasm question. Kk did put the silver bullet to good use the other night☺. It always has batteries, but it was just recently replaced, and we had been without one for much of this trying to get with child time. The enormous hatachi wand (the device that replaced the last silver bullet and that always gets a “that was so weird” comment after use) seemed like it might shake the shit out of the sperm and cause catastrophic results, so electronic masturbation had fallen by the wayside and then when the orgasm question resurfaced, well then.

We are diving back into injection mode; silver bullet may be in tow for some of this cycle and may not be; it’s all up to kk and whatever mood she is in.

I really do think the sperm and egg will find synchronicity when they are ready. I’m ready and willing [and learning to be more willing] to be patient for longer. There is no escaping the complexity of this process. But then again, there is no escaping the complexity of life—except learning to be with it and settle our human hearts and minds in reality in the realest ways possible.

Here we are spinning around on this big old brilliant ball of rock and molten and water and earth and vegetation trying to make sense of the various beauteous and monstrous and banal moments that cross our paths. And while frustration may furrow my brow when I learn that our attempts at creating a new creature have failed, I can rest back easy in the reality of having spent amazing and hysterical moments with kk trying to make it stick, and I have been blessed to be touched by the lives of so many kind and gentle-hearted people along this road to conception and in life itself.

the orgasm question

Starting the ball rolling all over again.
Her period has ended; her charting continues; the injections will now begin again.

Someone told us the other day that kk needs to orgasm with each injection of sperm. Is this true? Cause for all the times that I have shot that sweet smelling fluid up her, she has had orgasms about 3 times—give or take.

Part of the problem I have already explained—I have an issue with male fluids. The other problem is time and timing. I mean, for fuck sake, if I have to get her off every injection that means I can never just shoot and run out of the house when the other necessities of life come calling (work/obligations/etc). Furthermore, it is a little tricky to keep sperm warm in a syringe, get my baby all excited, and still have a hand free to make her come.

Please, do not take this as insensitive, or unsentimental, or rude. We do try to be as “spiritual” and loving about this process as possible. But, I am an incredibly practical gal. If the fluid is right and her cervix is right and her temp is right and her ovulation predictor kit is saying sling it and the ferns are forming on the maybe mommy and the days are lining up and her horniness level is right, then we have to trap and shoot. Sometimes, the time is early in the morning; sometimes, this is late at night.

And, of course we have to make sure bd’s life (plus those of his sweet family) is lining up with our lives. When the kind man is already willing and able to swing a jar of jiz by on his way to work, who then has time for kk’s orgasm?

Unless that orgasm is essential to the process of that darn sperm sticking to my kk’s egg, it becomes the last thing to check off on the doing it all right list. Of course, if we have a free night and all the timing is just perfect (which has happened) then things can run a little differently. Romantic lights and kissing and licking and all that.

Spreading the Joy Butter

On Saturday, we went to a 60th birthday surprise party for a dear family friend of kk. We took the long way (non-freeway way) to Livonia to pick up kk’s dad and then we hopped on the freeway for the quick little sprint to Detroit for the party.

On the way to Livonia, the gray winter sky dusted our surroundings with a simple sadness; the depleted horizontal landscape of Michign Avenue struck that same chord of ouch and yuck in my heart that it does every time we drive down it. Things are so built up and at the same time so depressed. There are strange bars and shabby motels where people take up permanent residence. There’s a GM plant and multiple care dealers; Home Depot and Bob Evans; Targets, Targets, Targets, and strip clubs.

As kk drove, I thought up nice things to write in the birthday girl’s card and kept my head down even though the car-sickness that I easily succumb to, when not looking out the window, was creeping into my chest. The birthday girl is indeed a woman who has an infectious joyfulness about her. So, I toyed with words about the joy she shares.

I turned to kk, “how about your joy is contagious; keep spreading the joy butter throughout the year?”

Kk chuckled, “spreading joy butter sounds kinda sexual.”

I said, “ha ha ha it does.”

Kk responded with, “maybe that is what we should call girl goo/juice/orgasm residue—Joy Butter.”

I agreed that girl come/cum should and could and would from now on, in our house, be referred to as Joy Butter. The dismal drive down Michigan Avenue got better when we started talking about the joy butter.

Keep spreading the joy butter ladies; it’s good for the soul.

a party, 2008, the cervix, and some sperm!

What a start to the New Year... Kk and I were real sick all weekend; we had some kind of bug that knocked us on our backs and made our bellies hurt. I slept 26 hours from Friday to Monday and watched ten movies. We were really supposed to be preparing for our annual New Year's Eve Party, but we pretty much got everything in order for the festivities on Monday, the day of.


party, party, party







Quite a few folks piled into our house last night. We had a good spread of food and a sweet bounty of beer, wine and liquor. The evening was warm and cozy. Around 11:00 Est. it started snowing hard--big, beautiful flakes--I'm talking the size of a fifty cent piece. Many of us at the party rang in the New Year on the front porch and in the front yard, swallowing snow flakes and spinning dazedly in the splendor of it.


50 cent piece snow flakes









Who knew the very first day of 2008 would also include the first sperm injection of the new year? Over the last few days, I've been checking kk's cervix. I lube up the speculum and very carefully slide it on up into her. The speculum is a cheap, crooked plastic thing that concerns me every time I use it cause I'm terrified it might rip a chunk of kk's sweetness out as a pull it back into the air. So far, so good...

Anyhow, back to the story of her cervix. The last three times that I checked the little donut it was emitting creamy fluid and lowly positioned (not high and back). On Sunday night I investigated and the same situation was in process. I could tell the fluid was getting a little less creamy white, but not that much.

Then our crazy, hectic New Year's Eve Monday came. After a piss, kk told me she thought she was super slippery and perhaps the egg white fluid was starting to surface. I was like how could it shift that quickly and plus according to your chart you are not even supposed to begin the ovulation phase until Wednesday (the earliest potential date for ovulating). But, I also let on that we should call the bio-dad and ask if he could provide a little something, something. We did not.

Then this morning after a late night (3:30 a.m. bed time). Kk peed on the ovulation predictor stick and a smiley developed. We texted bd and let him know we needed some fluid. He texted back and sprang some for us a bit over 2 hours later. No, it did not take him two hours to get it off; he had family obligations:)

Then kk got all cozied up and I injected the first, fresh sperm pool of 2008 up into my love's hole.

How appropriate that New Year's day should be a day for injecting. Last night, during the party, I was sitting around with two of my straight, boy friends shooting the shit about kk's cervix and a Nova special they had both seen that shows the cervix dipping into a fresh sperm pool. They said it was really cool and I should watch it. Well, today I hope that bd, me, and my kk created a fresh sperm pool for the cervix to bend into and lap up whole heartedly some sperms for procreation.

Happy 2008!

a bit about fluids

in response to some questions posed on comments (see biscodo's:))to the pipette post.
bodily fluids, in general, do not freak me out all too much--i look forward to exploring mysterious fluids with k and the kid someday.

When i first went down on a woman, well, i had this feeling that i was finally coming home. As for male fluid, i've just never been much into cock; unless of course i am imagining one on me. And, i am a lesbian who has never gotten it on with a man (no intercourse; no oral sex), so maybe my aversion to having male fluids in my mouth has something to do with keeping my orifices male-fluid free (my lips have only been graced with the strange, gentle fluid that spills forth from females).

I think that's it...but maybe tasting the stuff would do me good. i've gotten much more comfortable, since we started this process, getting the spermy liquid on my hands a bit and washing up the syringe and jar after we inject.

tmi--i know, but what can i say--i'm really into fluids!

the long pipette

We are trying some new things this month. First we are paying extra close attention to kk's mucus; second we are going to inseminate when the mucus seems slippery and egg whitish even if the other signs don't line up; third i might, just might, give this special little instrument called the pipette a try.


the pipette--waiting to be used

I've been meaning to reflect on this long, fine glass tube for some time now. Many months ago, our friend, tm, pilfered a few of these devices from his work and gave them to us to try out. I've been nervous to use one for many reasons:

1. It is glass and my baby's tender cratch is just that--tender.
2. Sucking fresh jiz up anywhere near my mouth deeply disturbs me (i've gone my whole life with out any male fluids landing on my tongue or teeth, and I plan to go the rest of my life unscathed).
3. I am hesitant due to the extraordinary length of the pipette. It is longer than the insemination device should be (unless of course the insemination device happens to be a very gigantic penis), but maybe it will do fine just partially inserted.
4. And, this is the most unreasonable of my paranoias--I once heard this myth about the dangers of blowing air up into a woman through her vaginal opening(at least i think it was a myth, but who knows i could be the person that proves it to be a truth rather than a myth). I am scared that if I blow the sperm through the pipette into kk that i will also blow air bubbles up into her that will contribute to her spontaneous and untimely death due to an air bubble lodging in her heart, lungs or brain.

Last month I was all geared up to give the thing a try. I practiced sucking up some beer in it, and the Bell's best brown ale scampered right back out--spilling all over my lap. But beer is much, much thinner than sperm. And sperm is much more difficult to come by than beer.

All in all, I will most likely stick with the regular, old syringe, but it sure is fun to dream about putting the pipette to good old baby-making use!

Speculum days

In spite of the recent let down--no lovely encounter between the swimmers and an egg--I'm feeling pretty chill at this point. I'm trying to overcome my usual twitchy, anxiety laden behavior for something more subdued. So a calmness has been setting in to my gut and heart--what will be, will be, and I will remain glad to be alive and in love with life.

Now calmness does not mean I am forbidden to imagine how to become the best injector I can be. We are about to venture down the road of speculum dominated days. Kk is buying a speculum off ebay (oh, not really, but that is where i thought she was buying it from and announced this to a group of people only to be laughed at)--Maia Midwifery is more like it.

Once the speculum is in hand, I will be in charge of checking the mucus. This means I get to look up inside kk and see what her mucus is doing for the day. I hope I can tell the damn difference between the fertile type and the brick wall, tangly web, block the sperm type. Right now, kk usually just reaches up and pulls a little out and stretches it in front of me and asks "do you think that is egg whitey stretchy?" And I say, "not quite sure; do you think it is?"

I will have to become a better decipherer of the thick, thin, slick, clear, white, opaque, translucent, shimmery liquid that sloshes so sexily between my darling, darling lover's legs. This challenge will hopefully keep my mind off the anxiety and more on kk's oh so sweet body that I am blessed to hold and snuggle and kiss and lick and love.

thank you good straight men

I've been meaning to reflect on the following subject a bit for some time now--straight boys who are my friends and who have the patience and interest to listen, at times, to my adventures in this world of sperm in jars, sperm in syringes, sperm in kk.

Throughout the last many months, many of these fellows have shown genuine interest in this escapade of ours. They have listened with wide eyes; given feedback and ideas with gracious eagerness; and asked with hopeful hearts how things are coming along. Of course, we've laughed lots along the way.

One of the things I like best about this time in our lives, is the candidness that I am allowed to dwell in. I'm a pretty forthright gal. I tell it like I see it. I cross the boundaries of properness on a frequent basis. I talk about my private parts and other people's private parts in the adult public. Shit and puke and piss and ejaculate are frequent bodily fluids that find their way into topics of conversation when I am involved in those conversations. I think it is important to be frank about our bodies. Prudish america has contributed to a repressed, societal sexuality that helps young girls get knocked up way too early and way too much by young boys who are being taught to see young girls as objects, while simultaneously the young girls start seeing themselves as objects and begin wearing their bodies as just that an object to be consumed, controlled, confined--and on and on and on...

When in all actuality we are mammals with the ability to think and reason and imagine and love and think and create and on and on. So this mammal part, the part about our ability to gather and hunt food, eat, digest, shit, piss, get horny, have sex (in all kinds of ways for procreation and recreation) and die gets pushed by the wayside too much and from there the repression begins to build up, or dig down, or pile backwards.

Anyhow,that is my quick,non-academic perspective. I could go on about it, but I will not.

Around straight boys who are my friends, I have found that I can tap this frankness about the whole process of girl on girl conception done injector/kk style in ways that bring a smile of surprise and happiness to my face.

How lucky I am to have good men in my life (both gay and straight). Men who listen, reflect, offer advice, joke, and get all "indecent" with me about this new adventure for everyone involved.

Ode to Autumn in Michigan

Autumn finally hit Michigan. I love it. On Saturday, we went to a family halloween party and then came home early enough to catch a dose of sperm. I rode over to the BD's house for a generous portion of the live little swimmers(he is no longer new, so now we can refer to him as Bio-dad or baby's donor, but BD does him fine). If I have not mentioned it yet, I will now, the BD consistently ejaculates between 3 and 3.2 CCs. I am amazed at the quantity every time I pull it up in my sweet, orange syringe.

Now back to the love of Autumn...We arrived home from the family party. My kk and the BD exchanged texts regarding drop into jar, ready, set, send the injector on over via bicycle. Except this particular night marked the first super chilly ride over to the BD's, so I had to dress a bit warmer and wear gloves. It was edging down to high 30s.

I was speedy on the way over. I got there and realized that the little swimmers needed to be kept warm due to the glorious arrival of the real fall (chilly nights, cold mornings, warmer afternoons, chilly nights, and on it goes). So, in front of the BD I reached down and up my shirt simultaneously to try and maneuver the former tomato paste jar, transformed into sperm vessel, between my bosoms and up against my chest wall and sports bra. Injector, "Sorry but it is getting colder out." BD, "Yeah, you gotta keep em' warm, now."

Then we chatted about pumpkin guts scattered by terror squirrels, social gathering woes, and a particular horror movie.

I pedaled home with a burst of energy trying to keep my little critters warm in the crevice of motherly love.

KK was waiting, but I made her take pictures of me pulling the potential sugar patch elixir out of my shirt. I sucked them up in my trusty syringe and once again (i've lost count now) let the suckers fly.

I kept you warm when you were cold

To look in great befuddlement upon the liquid gold; warm and sticky

Upon injection the sugary, bleach scented liquid found a constant warmth to combat the chill of Autumn in the cavern of kk's female parts. So is my ode to fall in Michigan.

Update on our attempts at making a sugarpatch

me with a jar of jiz--wet and sweaty from my ride to pick it up...








I've been a slacker in describing our most recent experiences in the world of procreation. Mostly, I think I've been lacking in words because the last injection phase was so excellent and I was not sure if I could do our experience justice here.

I will be brief, but give a simple play by play.

1. We got a new donor.
2. He is super great.
3. His lady is super great.
4. We like their family a super lot.
5. We signed some papers.
6. I performed the first pick up by bicycle. Riding through the mist to their house to claim the prize was invigorating and fun. I sucked up the first gift of jiz and shot it up into my baby. His smells different--but still bleachy and unusual with a hint of candy, sweetness.
7. The following evening we picked up another gift and shot it up into kk real quick on the couch. We covered her with blankets and crossed our fingers that our roommate would not arrive while I was under the covers injecting the swimmers up into her body.
8. We tried again the next morning. The NBD (new baby donor) arrived on our front porch with a gift of jiz early. How sweet. Again, I shot kk up on the couch so I could talk to her while I made coffee and toast.
9. We went up north for the fall get away and hoped that the swimmers might take.
10. On Sunday morning, while still up north kk had her SURGE of HORMONES. We trucked on home. NBD gave us a hand off that evening. I shot kk up again.
11. Monday morning our very kind NBD dropped another wad of jiz to us. And once again we did a couch injection.
12. Kk's temperature went up on Tuesday morning which means her egg fell right into some swimmers.
13. We had our fingers crossed for days.
14. I started my period before kk; this does not usually happen, so we thought hmm....(I also got this really cool tampon pouch. It is called Vinnie's Tamp Case--it is cute and makes me laugh.)
15. Alas, while in Nashville, before we came home to find our treasured pumpkins ripped off, kk started her period.
16. Swimmers failed to take this time around.
17. Looking forward to this next round of tries.
18. NBD thank-you for your steady stream of fluids:)

A New Ride

The past couple of months have been void of sperm. We have not injected since July. The distance of the don don and the insane business of our lives have proven to be major obstacles in our attempts to get pregnant. So, here, in public, I give a shout of thanks out to our don don. Thanks for trying with us. Thank you for familiarizing me with sperm—its smell, its texture, its elasticity. Your sperm will always be the first I ever sucked up in an orange syringe and let fly.

But now, we must move on to closer swimmers. Some very gracious people have offered up the male half of the couple’s sperms. And we have found this arrangement to be comfortable and to make sense. Laughing about the process with these folks has made me love the adventure even more. Now, fresh sperm will be just a few blocks away, and I will be able to pick the stuff up via bicycle and ride it home to my sweet girl’s eager cavern.

I cannot stress how happy I am that I can ride my bicycle to pick up the life giving liquid. Riding my bicycle makes me incredibly happy. Every morning I wake up excited to get on my bike and ride to work. Many mornings I meet my dear friend T and we take off for the wild world of Ann Arbor. Riding my bike to work makes me feel like a kid; riding my bike to work with a friend makes me feel like a super kid out on a play date rather than on my way to the stress riddled realities of social injustice that I become submerged in throughout the day. The ride in prepares me for a long day; the ride home helps take my mind to the present moment.



my single gear-redline 9.2.5.

Riding is like that. It turns a mind and body to the presence of air and ground and wind and gravel and concrete and grass and rivers. Riding over roads and paths, consumes the senses with all that surrounds the body. I have to become consumed, because I have to pay attention to every detail happening around me. The wiz, wiz, wiz of too many cars becomes a mantra of refusal to be clipped. The ferocity of the wind can set the pace and make me feel like I am riding in the midst of something miraculous.

Riding in a rainstorm initiates a deep satisfaction in my soul. It is like swimming on land. We are able to delve into the mystery of water while breathing in oxygen. Even the freezing months’ rides deliver a thrill. While it may be difficult to get my ass out of the house on those 20-something degree mornings, once we are on the road the anticipation of warming up by mile 5 speeds up the heart, warms the muscles, and breathes life into our blood.

I am amazed and blessed and thrilled that I can now combine my love of being out in the world on my bicycle, traversing the landscapes and moving through the present moment, with this sugar patch creation adventure.

Again, thank you dear don don.

And now, onto the new ride

Surrounded by bodily fluids

We skipped trying this month. We just could not make it to Chicago—not k by herself, not me with k. It just didn’t work. I could not have gone even if we had ended up stumbling into cash and time, cause I got food poisoned on Thursday night, and I was recuperating all weekend.

This food poisoning caused me to puke for the first time since I was 6, save for a drunken spew when I was in the 10th grade. That is how sick I was—my fear of vomiting was enormous until one week ago. I shat almost uncontrollably for 6 hours. And part way through that the puke came. And then the next day my body was like a defeated vessel of lifelessness. I had a fever—all day long—from dehydration (or maybe whatever toxin had waged battled on my intestines and gut). For the rest of the weekend I mostly sat around on our very uncomfortable couch and watched mindless television.

I think some spoiled Russian/thousand island dressing on a veggie Reuben caused the explosion in my body to occur. Ughh…

Anyhow, I’m better now. I sucked on gatorade and vernors, popsicles and jello for a few days and now my belly seems happy.

I hope that overcoming my fear of puking will help when it comes to raising up a kid when ever the sugar patch decides to take. Cause wee ones are like test tubes of germs and stank and viruses. And I need to really be able to clean up a pile of puke or diarrhea, so that k does not get stuck with it all.

When I was 19, I was still living at home with my ma and dad. I got some really nasty virus and passed out in the hall way and shit my pants. My loving mother attended to my mess like it was second nature. I need a gut and heart like the one my mom demonstrated that day. So, I am slowly building it.

As I stroll through this journey with all of these bodily fluids surfacing around me, I am building the kind of stamina that it will take to be there, strong and constant, for another life in all of his/her alien and familiar facets.

A 2 Liter of Semen--and some musings on the injector's inability to properly contribute to the creation of this sugar patch

This month has been a brutal roller coaster of emotion. I guess that is what life is in general, but I've discovered that this whole trying to get with child thing really sends me surfing on a giant wave--a wave that I am trying to ride gracefully, but alas my feet are too shifty and my balance leaves much to be desired.

KK is up in the air about whether or not to go to Chicago this month. We cannot afford for both of us to go--time wise or money wise--, so I will stay home if she does decide to go. All of this means that I will not be the injector if she tries this month. This leaves K terribly sad and it leaves me feeling as powerless as I've been feeling throughout this process.

Plus, our dear friends are moving away and their good-bye party is right when the egg might decide to drop, so K is thinking that maybe the egg should just drop into a sperm-free cavity this time around.

All of this has become too complicated with the don don living so far away. K is exploring freezing techniques--without clinical intervention--and I am wishing hard for a penis and testes so that I can just knock her up all by myself.

When I wake in the morning to the teary eyed gaze of the love of my life leaning over and whispering, "I wish you could just roll on top of me and make me pregnant," I have to wonder about this desire for offspring in conjunction with the inability for our bodies together to create new life. Of course, we have the wonderful muscle push of my hand surrendering someone else's sperm into her special parts, but it is nothing like the jiz really belonging to me.

Not that I am a semen envier; I really could do entirely without the stuff. Which brings me to the most disgusting thing I've pictured in my head in a long time. In the hot August heat of last night, we were shooting the shit about semen, yet again, with some friends. When we stumbled into the scary vision of one of the fellows storing his daily ejaculation in a 2 liter for a week (or maybe more) and giving it to me to inspect. How vile and laughable all at once! I wonder if it rots?