Part 3: Doing the Deed (Yep, the DIY Way)

At-home insemination is one of those topics people tend to joke about—legs in the air, turkey baster in hand, music in the background. And honestly? It’s not that far off. We figured before draining our savings at a fertility clinic, we might as well give the DIY a solid try. Thousands of people get pregnant at home with less. Why not us?

As you know from Part 2: Asking the Donor, we decided on my brother as our donor. Thankfully, he lives just 40 minutes away, which made logistics significantly less complicated. We planned to start trying in January 2025 and spent weeks researching how exactly lesbians go about this from home. Instagram, YouTube, books, and blogs all offered varying opinions, from the tools you use to whether or not you should orgasm first (seriously, there’s science there).

We ended up using a simple kit from Frida Baby: two disposable syringes and a reusable cup with a lid. That’s it. Fifty bucks. After reading stories of couples spending, and getting a quote of our own for $16,000+ at clinics, we were cautiously hopeful.

So here we are at our weekly family dinner. Me, Morgan, my brother Chris, and his girlfriend Kerry. We finish eating and the nerves kick in. Eventually, I nudge Chris with a subtle, "Well, it's about that time," which is code for: please go do your part so I can try to make a baby with my wife.

One of our many weekly family dinners - Morgan, Chris & Kerri (my brother's wonderful girlfriend)

The three of us sit awkwardly while Chris is in the other room. We all know what’s happening—it felt like forever, though it was really only minutes. I expected it to be weird. And it was. But not nearly as bad as I feared.

We say our goodbyes and rush to the bedroom. Smooth jazz on. Legs up. Syringe filled. The vibes are immaculate.

Now, it’s been over 8 years since I’ve encountered male anatomy. And that... smell? Let’s just say it took me right back in time, and not in a good way. Morgan, being a gold-star lesbian, had no frame of reference and honestly, I think it changed her.

Anyway. We did it. Syringe in, timer set. Fifteen minutes of head rubs and positive affirmations. Then we waited.

Round one? Didn’t work. We knew it could take months, even years, but we were still disappointed.

For round two, we got serious. We added ovulation tests to the calendar tracking we’d already been doing for two years. We timed it perfectly.

We tested early with one of those "80% accurate 5 days sooner" tests. Big mistake. Negative again. This time it hit Morgan hard. Tears. Fights. Emotions running wild. That test may have said no, but her hormones were screaming maybe.

A week later… still no period. So we took another test.

Then another. And another.

Every single one said the same thing: pregnant.

Five positive tests later, we were sure — something was in there.

We kept it secret at first. The next day we hosted a 30+ person party and somehow managed to not say a word. We waited for the blood draw confirmation, then slowly told our parents. After the 12-week mark, we started letting more people in.

We’re currently at 23 weeks. Our little one is growing beautifully, anatomy scan looked perfect, and we couldn’t be more in love with this process. It may not work for everyone, but for us, it was exactly right.