Sunday, March 23, 2008

To Test or not to Test?

Today or tomorrow is about the earliest I can do an early pregnancy test (its directions say up to five days before your period is due), but I think I'm going to try to wait a couple more days. It's too hard seeing a negative and not knowing if it's because I'm really not pregnant or if I just tested too early.

In the beginning we videotaped my early morning pee tests to try to get the exciting moment saved for posterity. After about ten negative attempts (some within the same cycle, so not ten months) I just couldn't handle burning up more tape on the same sad results. Dragging out the camcorder over and over again to witness myself failing to accomplish the most basic human function added a layer of repetitive humiliation and depression to an already stressful task so I really had to stop. It was horrible waking Delia up for my early morning pee, both of us heading to the bathroom, cranking up the little motor on the Canon and having to both sit around waiting to preserve our disappointment forever on digital video. Even though the footage is still good for pee lovers, it got real old for me real fast.

Deciding whether or not to videotape and/or otherwise share our precious and pathetic moments on our sites is always a challenge for us, but even more so with trying to conceive and share (plus eroticize) a pregnancy. Documenting and sharing it seems even more valuable since it's a once-in-a-lifetime (or maybe twice-in-a-lifetime) experience, but for the same reason it's also important to preserve enough of our experiences AWAY from cameras so that we can just feel what's happening without being photographers/models/subjects/whores and without altering the experience by adding those elements to it.

If I am going to have negative results (which I've had a lot of in the past nine months) I can handle waking up by myself and doing the test, then telling Delia when she wakes up that it was negative. It becomes harder and I feel more like a loser when she gets up with me and watches/waits with me for the results. And it would be EVEN MORE DIFFICULT if I had promised members to tape it and had to keep sharing the bad news. Over and over again. And maybe never "deliver" (in more ways than one). Which is why I didn't promise that, and why I started just testing without even telling Delia.

I realize that being infertile wouldn't make me a "failure" or a "loser". I realize I "shouldn't feel that way". But the truth is that documenting things AMPLIFIES and ALTERS their emotional significance. That may not make rational sense to some people, but it's the reality. Events ARE impacted when they are observed.

Taping and testing. Not sure what to do about either of them this week. I'll decide tomorrow what I will do the next day. Or maybe tomorrow I will sneak into the bathroom by myself, pee in my glass, and dip the stick. And be the first person to know whatever it is or isn't or I'm not sure of -- the only one who knows what the test says for at least a few minutes.

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Sunday, June 24, 2007

Love Making

We had sex for the first potentially-fertile time on Thursday. It was probably too early, but still . . . we were both aware that it was purposeful sex aimed towards the specific consequence of conception.

Things I'm embarrassed to admit:

I found myself trying to concoct fantasies in my head that weren't as kinky as my usual fantasies during sex. I tried to imagine "healthy" fantasies. What kind of fantasies are you supposed to have when you're making a baby? Lines kept running through my head like, we are having grown-up sex. This is how adults do it. I kept being nagged by the awareness that somehow what we were doing was suddenly a touch foreign to me.

On the other hand, it was very romantic and lovey-dovey sex. Here's what a voyeur had to say about it:
You and tucker look so hot together . . . everybody on chat was talking about you. I added that you have the hottest body . . . Tucker was hot too, he's cool. It wasn't really sex to me, it was love making there, true love making . . . it was beautiful.
Isn't that sweet? I guess the romance was apparent, maybe because we both had big shit-eating grins on our faces.

Of course, that particular voyeur didn't have audio so he couldn't hear the naughty fantasy I confessed aloud to reverting to. I actually don't even remember what it was now, but maybe some other peepers heard it. Something about me being Delia's daddy, I think.

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