The day of the IUI, my husband and I went up to a quieter floor of the clinic where he “produced” his semen. Since I’m apparently not as mature as I should be, I had many questions about this specimen room. We joked about how he had it easy. The clinic then washes the semen, and handed us a small vial of concentrated sperm — just the best guys apparently. That’s the point of washing. To clean out the duds and make sure you’re getting the most mobile straight shooters you can get. I then took this vial back down to what was basically Union Station (since it was now prime time at the clinic), and awaited to be inseminated with my husband’s sperm. The insemination process itself was so quick and noninvasive that I questioned how it could possibly work.The doctor on call took the sperm, attached it to a catheter and then inserted it into my cervix so it could reach my uterus. After, I continued to lie on the table for 10 minutes. Then I got up and left. It didn’t hurt, and I was sort of like, that’s...it? Yep, that’s it. Basically it’s just like giving the sperm a running start. A slingshot towards the finish line, if you will.