|Proceed with caution|
Now that all those exciting descriptions are out of the way... the real experience was quite different.
Taking clomid and receiving the injection was pretty straight forward (on a side note- as I was bent over the table, my pants around my ankles, ready for my injection of HCG, the nurse asked me to please clasp my hands together to prevent me from hitting her. That did not give me a lot of confidence).
Picking up my husbands "washed" sperm (only the best for me!) from the fertility clinic was not as straight forward. The nurse handed me a test tube filled with the goods and told me to stick it between my breasts. So out I walked into the busy city streets with my husbands sperm sticking out of my bra- to keep them at body temperature, I was told. I prayed I would not get into a car accident as I drove to my ObGyn's office. I'm not sure how a shattered vile of sperm would be written up on an accident report.
Momma always said wear clean underwear, she never said anything about clean sperm.