As a result of my last appointment with Dr. M., my reproductive endocrinologist, Doug was asked to have a semen analysis. I was looking forward to knowing where we stood in regard to his "swimmers". So I urged Doug to schedule his appointment and drop off since collection could be done at home. Well... He did make the appointment. I was requested (by him) to do the drop off. It was today. This is how it went.

I had the kids packed up and ready to go since I knew it was important that I get the sample to the office by the appointment time. Let me say that I was less than thrilled that I had to tote the kids along with me on this adventure but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. The boys and I were hanging out by the door waiting for Doug to take care of his end of things so that we could make a break for it.

While we waited, Gavin asked, "Where are we going Mommy?"

"Uhh... We are going to see a doctor for a couple of minutes," I explained.

"Oh! Is he going to show me all of the tools he uses to make you better like they did when you went to the dentist?" he wanted to know.

"No, sweetie. This isn't a dentist. Actually, I don't need to see the doctor. We are just taking something to him." I tried to end the conversations. I should have known better. Gavin would never be satisfied without feeling like he knew everything.

"What are we taking to him?" he asked.

I thought about my answer with a silent and inward grin. I couldn't tell him "Daddy's little swimmers" since I am sure he would want to look at them and well... that is just not something I was interested in showing to him. So, I decided to just tell him, "We are just dropping of a package to him."

"OH! A package!" I was relieved until he said, "Mom? What is in the package?"

This was an excellent opportunity for me to tell Gavin to put on his shoes and ask him if he wanted a lemonade on the way home. He was so excited about the lemonade that I finally felt I had dodged that bullet.

A few minutes later, Doug appears on the first floor with cup in hand. I am an adult. Really. But there is something really funny about seeing your husband with a cup of semen in his hand. Funny and just a little bit gross.

I tuck the cup into my shirt to keep it warm and pick up Joey and head out the door. It is at about this moment that I realize that I feel like I am carrying some sort of time sensitive bomb. I am in a hurry and acutely aware that I have something strapped to my body. I had the cup in a bag and was starting to regret that decision since sweaty, sticky plastic stuck to my belly was far from comfortable. I intentionally didn't turn on the air conditioning since the point of me wearing this cup in my shirt was to keep it warm, it seemed silly to me to have cold air blowing on me although I really needed it. I was sweaty, nervous and anxious. I think because of that drive this morning, I now know what drug smugglers feel like when they are crossing the border.

I manage to arrive right on time. I get Joey into an umbrella stroller, get Gavin to walk next to me, and manage to hold my purse so that the giant cup protruding from my shirt isn't as obvious as it feels. I walk as quickly as I can into the building. The finish line is now in sight!

I climb into an elevator with an adorable old couple who I am pretty sure were going to the cardiologist on the same floor as Dr. M's office. I may have given them a heart attack had they known I was carrying my husbands sperm in my shirt. At least they wouldn't have had to go far. The door to Dr. M's office is just steps away. I then remember the other reason that I didn't want to go on this, shall we say, "mission," with the kids. I am about to walk into an infertility clinic with a 3 year old and a one year old. I feel like there is something insensitive about this whole situation. As Gavin opens the door for me and the stroller, I hold my breath. I am hoping to see an empty waiting area. Nope. Full. As in only 3 chairs available. Me, the stoller and Gavin take up all of the existing space in the room. All eyes on me.

The window slides open. "Last name?"

I answer.

"Oh! Do you have something for us?"

"I do."

Awkward pause with smiles and my eyes darting back and forth as if to see if the coast was clear. It wasn't. Everyone knew exactly what I was doing. The receptionist smiled and told me, "Don't worry. They have all done it too!"

I laugh awkwardly and reach under my shirt and handed her the bag with the sample inside. The girl sitting about 2 feet from me smiled reassuringly and chimes in, "I just did that an hour ago."

I felt better that the sticky sweaty plastic bag with the goods was officially not my responsibility anymore. But now, I had to fill out some paperwork. Both sides of the room are lined with women and couples waiting patiently. As I am hurriedly filling out Doug's information, Gavin keeps asking at a clearly audible tone, "Did you deliver the package, Mom? Did we deliver the package? Did we give them the package?" I am trying to quietly answer him, while focusing on the paperwork and trying to tune out the snickers and giggles from all around me. I feel my face warming as I blush.

I finish the paperwork, hand it to the lady on the other side of the window, and can't get out of there fast enough. Of course, the wheels of the stroller are stuck sideways so I am fumbling around trying to get out of the door. I am not fast enough. Gavin asks one last time while still in the walk in closet sized waiting room, "Mom! Did you already give Dr. M. the package? I want to see what is in it!"

The door closes. I can only imagine their faces on the other side of that door. I laughed out loud at myself and the whole situation.

"Why are you laughing mom?"

"I am just thinking about how much you are going to enjoy your lemonade, honey."

"Oh! I love lemonade!"

Doug owes me big time. Huge!