As a donor who has used Natural Insemination often over the years, I’ve finally had to hang up my hat and give it all up for the woman I fell in love with. What’s sort of strange is that she came to me as a recipient seeking a natural sperm donation, which I agreed to do quite happily.
She was a thirty-nine-year-old half-Korean professional woman that had been married but was now divorced. She bitterly regretted letting her ex-husband talk her into delaying having children, and by the time she was going to insist on getting pregnant they were having marital problems and soon divorced.
I did my usual chat with her and later met her in person at a coffee shop. She was very nervous and quiet, but she attempted to hide behind her rather formidable barrier she surrounded herself with. She let her guard down for a moment when she was coming over with her coffee and as she was sitting down she hit the cup with her purse, spilling the coffee. For a brief moment I saw the absolute horror, embarrassment, and absolute terror in her eyes at the attention she had brought upon herself and probably thinking that she ruined her chances with me.
I quickly stepped into action, and said as loudly as I could so I could direct the blame onto me, “I’m so sorry for knocking over your coffee.” I then got up to retrieve some paper towels and cleaned it up while trying to make light of it all. Once everyone else in the coffee shop returned to their normal conversations, I went to get her another coffee and brought it to her. She just smiled at me shyly and said, “Thank you.”
As we had already pretty much agreed that we would be doing the deed during her next ovulation, this meeting was sort of to make sure that we were compatible and who we said we are. Nothing is worse than to arrange for a donor and then on the day you meet for the actual event he turns out (or she does) to be something completely different than you expected.
We just talked about general things, about our jobs, and about family. After about forty-five minutes she looked at me and said, “Well, I want to do this with you if you are OK with it.”
I assured her I was and after checking the dates, we tentatively agreed to meeting in about two weeks time at my home.
We chatted on and off for those two weeks and then the day arrived and she arrived at my home straight from work wearing her business suit. I could tell that she had once again raised her protective barriers, as she was very stiff and formal. I suppose the incident with the coffee had let her relax a bit with me and let me glimpse at her real self for a bit. But now she was all prime and proper and didn’t seem all that friendly.
She really didn’t want to make much small talk, but to just get on with the task at hand.
She took a shower first, and I was waiting for her in bed when she came out dressed in a robe I’d provided. She got into bed with me, and after some very awkward conversation, we began the actual insemination.
Though she was single and unattached, she didn’t want any sort of intimacy beyond what was absolutely necessary. that meant no kissing, fondling, or touching anywhere but between her legs, which she allowed so she could get wet enough for me to enter her. As she was ovulating, she was already fairly wet anyway, so it didn’t take much to prepare her for intercourse.
Eventually, she told me to get on top and start. Usually, I find this sort of reaction to married women who are a bit guilty for having sex with men other than their husbands, and I totally understand that. But as she was single, and had been sexually active not too long ago with a boyfriend she recently broke up with, it seemed a bit strange for her to react this way. But, as this was a donation and not a romantic encounter, so be it.
I mounted her, maneuvered myself into the proper position, planted myself at her entrance, and began pushing in very slowly. I heard a sound of pain and immediately stopped. I’m a bit thicker than normal and I often get this reaction during any first time sex. I let her get used to me a bit before I started working my way deeper inside of her, but from the grimace on her face, I knew she was still feeling pain. Finally, after entering her all the way, I remained motionless for a long while. She used this time to adjust herself a bit, moved her hips around, and then told me I could start moving.
It was very strange to be thrusting away and seeing her with no reaction at all. She had her eyes tightly closed and there wasn’t a hint of pleasure or even pain on her face. It was as though she’d put herself into a sort of trance to help her get through this. I certainly didn’t want to do this if she was having doubts or didn’t like what I was doing. So, I stopped and asked her if she was all right and if perhaps she wanted me to get off her. She told me she was fine and that maybe I should just finish up as quickly as possible. I did my best and after concentrating on the task at hand, I came inside of her.
I remained on top of her for about five minutes, as I’ve realized over time that this is the critical few moments where the sperm gets to where it needs to be and if conception is going to take place it will happen very soon after the ejaculation. When I thought that the time was right, I rolled off, had her get her legs into the air using my bed frame to place her feet, and we relaxed.
I tried to make small talk with her, but she really wasn’t interested. I had the feeling that she was deeply embarrassed by all of this but was trying to take it in stride for the greater good of having a baby.
After about twenty minutes of keeping her legs in the air, she got out of bed, dressed, and asked if we were still meeting tomorrow at the same time. I told her that would be fine, and then she was off.
The next two days were an exact repeat of the first encounter. No foreplay, no talking, I enter her, make my release, she stays on her back, and leaves.
After the third time she did smile at me before she left and I wished her luck and asked if she would at least tell me the results. She promised she would and left.
As promised, she called me a few weeks later and told me that her period had come. As we talked I could hear great sadness in her voice, and then without warning she suddenly burst into tears. As we lived int he same city, I told her that I wanted to meet with her at a casual restaurant not too far from where she lived. She agreed and once we began talking in person she began calming down and opening up to me. When we left the restaurant, we took a walk and then talked for hours. I don’t know why, but she began letting down her barriers, which allowed me to get a glimpse of the woman I saw in the coffee shop. I promised her that I would continue helping her, and we arranged for the dates for next cycle’s ovulation.
We continued talking on the phone and chatting during the next few weeks, and she started to open up to me. When we met at my home for the next donation, things went much smoother. Instead of the stiff woman on her back who kept her eyes closed, she was responsive, happy, and relaxed. It actually was more like a romantic encounter than a donation. As we were both single, I suppose it was easier to see it that way.
We met for three days straight and after each donation, instead remaining silent while her feet were high in the air, she began talking to me. On the third day, we actually stayed in bed and talked for hours about anything and everything under the sun. We found that we had a lot in common, and we enjoyed many of the same things including a deep love of history. She even had her bachelor’s degree in history, and believe me I put her to the test (as I’m a history buff).
We continued chatting and talking after the donations were complete for the month, and even met for lunch once. I could tell that feelings were developing between us, as this wasn’t the same as my normal encounters usually went. But she also was a hard nut to crack. She still kept many of her inner emotions hidden, and though I was seeing a bit more than most people probably saw, she still didn’t fully trust me, or probably anybody else.
One issue that I knew she was thinking of was that at thirty-nine, the chances of getting pregnant are a bit lower than if she were much younger. In her head she knew it would take several attempts, but her heart wasn’t prepared for this, because when she didn’t get pregnant after the second attempt it devastated her. Again, I met with her and tried calming her down, which seemed to work, and promised to try again. She was actually worried that perhaps I was getting tired of this and maybe wanted to move onto someone else more prettier than she was (why do women always think this?). For me, the only way to respond to that isn’t by words but action. I gave her a firm promise that I would be ready and able to help her for the third time and assured her that I’m with her for the long haul.
When we met for the third donation, we got into bed and were just beginning with the foreplay when I saw that she was trying to hide her feelings from me. I stopped, held her tightly, and the emotions came pouring out of her in the form of tears as she confessed her biggest fear was to die alone without children. It tore her up. This self-sufficient, hard core professional woman who had it all, and she didn’t want to die alone. Nothing I could do could console her other than giving her that baby she more than ever not only wanted but needed. She continued to cry in my arms for a good long time and all I could do was hold her tightly to me while reassuring her that I wasn’t going anywhere.
Eventually, she fell asleep, and I didn’t move because I didn’t want to wake her as she really needed this. I just held her close to me so she would feel comforted. When she woke up about a half hour later, she looked at me, smiled, kissed me, and then instead of having sex, we spent the next two hours making love instead. That was the turning point of our relationship from being just a donor/recipient to being in love.
She didn’t get pregnant that third time, nor the fourth time either. It upset her each time, but as her trust in me grew, it seemed to lessen the pain.
We did go get ourselves checked out by a fertility doctor and there were no issues. I then decided to take matters into my own hands and not trust her calculations. Maybe it’s the engineer in me, but I took all of her data on her menstrual cycle that she’d been keeping for a long time on a written pad, put all of it into a computer app, made my own charts,then literally interviewed her in detail about her bodily functions including how much vaginal mucus she produces at certain times during her cycle (not very romantic, but necessary). I then came up with my own ovulation dates for the next time.
Then, for the fifth time, we started making love the evening of her ovulation, and kept it up during the next couple of days. I was exhausted at the end of it and swore off sex a bit – though not for too long – and waited for the results.
I was more anxious to know than she was. She’d been so bitterly disappointed that even when she missed her period, she refused to check. Finally, I convinced her to test, and when she did it came back positive. A visit to the doctors later that week confirmed it. She was in another world as we drove home. There was a look of relief mixed with pure joy. I reached down, took her hand into mine, brought it up to my lips, and kissed it, telling her, “You won’t be alone any longer.” She took my hand on put it onto her cheek, and just smiled.
And our relationship will soon be permanent. We went out to dinner to celebrate later that night and afterwards, while still sitting at the table, I asked her to marry me.
And yes, she knows my complete history and is fine with it; however, I did have to promise that I would stop donating my semen regardless of the method. She’s OK with blood, but nothing else.
That is a promise that I intend to keep.
But, I’m still able to make comments, answer questions, and tell my stories of previous encounters to help others along.
So, don’t expect this blog to disappear.
Photo Credit: http://www.wisegeekedu.com