Our Journey – Step 3: Timed Insemination
Okay, so we’d tracked our cycles. Now came the part where timing was everything.
Unlike heterosexual couples who might approach this casually, we were on a schedule — with syringes, donor logistics, and a window that opened and shut fast. No pressure, right?
We’d both decided early on to use at-home artificial insemination. It felt safer, more private, and honestly more us. But that didn’t make it any less stressful. We had our syringes lined up like little soldiers on the counter, collection cups ready, and a shared calendar that had more colour coding than a primary school classroom.
At that point Kat was a few days ahead of me in her cycle, so her insemination came first. We remember lighting a candle, playing some music, trying to make it feel less clinical. She was nervous. We both were. Even though we’d done our prep, the actual moment made it real. "What if it doesn’t work?" she whispered. "Then we try again," I said. And we meant it.
A few days later it was my turn. My insemination was a little less zen — we were running late for something and I was like, “Quick! Pass me the syringe!” But it was full of love, laughter, and hope.
We gave ourselves the best chances we could — lying down afterwards, hips up (yes, we tried all the hacks), staying relaxed, sending love to those microscopic swimmers.
And then… the wait.
Two weeks of overthinking everything. Sore boobs? Symptom. Hungry at 3 a.m.? Maybe implantation hunger? Watched a nappy ad and cried? DEFINITELY pregnant (spoiler alert: maybe not).
But here’s the thing: for lesbian couples or anyone using at-home insemination, it’s not just about getting pregnant — it’s about being present, in partnership, in the process. It bonded us like nothing else. We were teammates in the most important mission of our lives.
