Candles Don't Help

M and I tried to make getting a sample not so.... awkward, I guess you could say? But no matter what you try, it is not the most... romantic(?) thing to do. Setting the mood does not help, so just face the fact that your SO (significant other) has to jack off in a cup. I also would not suggest using any saliva or lubricants as this can ruin sperm quality.

Source

Cup in hand, M headed off to take care of business, while I waited and plotted the best way to get to the lab the quickest, as samples have to arrive within a time frame. When M handed me the cup, I tucked it in my armpit, careful not to tip it on its side (wouldn't want those men to swim away), and flew drove very carefully to the hospital. I ran calmly walked through the hospital to the lab.

I thought the most awkward part (getting the sample) was over, but I think handing my husband's sperm to some young girl in a white lab coat, trying to catch my breath from the nice stroll through the halls of the hospital, and stumbling over my words trying to tell her that those were my husband's men, I mean sperm, and they needed to be tested, checked, I needed an analysis, I mean my husband's men, sperman (yes, I think I really did sputter that out) needed an analysis, was worse. She told me to go ahead and tuck them back in my pit while she got me entered into the system. HELLO, WE ARE ON A TIME FRAME!!! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS, PLEASE JUST TAKE THE CUP AND LET ME CRAWL IN A HOLE!!! I quietly stood and politely answered her 4,958,024,957 questions, then handed her the cup with a little smile and gracefully left the lab.

I think I may or may not have manically started laughing when I got back in the car, but I made it home and prayed for good results and that I would never have to do that again. The hour wait to hear the results was pure torture, but luckily I got to call Dr K and have her tell them to me instead of talking to the sweet girl at the lab again.