I’ve just had an interesting conversation with my mother. Informative and yet entirely unnecessary. So to turn a frown upside down I thought I’d share the information with you.
I was conceived in April, 1985. In a pub called ‘The Globe’.
Great. :rolleyes:
Not only do I not know HOW I was conceived, I don’t even know WHO was involved except for my mother, who gave me a lot of bullshit regarding the event.
Was it in the public room? stare
I was made in my grandparents’ bed, the night before my maternal aunt got married. May 19, 1967. My parents hadn’t seen each other for a month, didn’t see each other for 6 weeks after, so Mom is quite definitely sure.
A stork brought me.
I don’t want to think about the alternative.
I don’t know what’s worse, there or in the privacy of a pub toilet? :eek:
That sounds vaguely familiar…
I may be slightly more mature about this than some other posters. 
I can accept that my parents had sex brain screams “ICK!” but only five times! Okay maybe seven because my mom thinks she had two early miscarriages, but that’s all! As for the circumstances of each of those events, I don’t want to know but I am certain no exotic locales were involved. brain screams “ICK!”
Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go scrub my brain now.
I’m sitting one floor up and fifteen feet from the exact spot where I was conceived, though it’s a new mattress.
Seein’ as my parents never married or even lived together (I was the result of a forgotten condom during a limited term “liaison”, should we say, between a widow and a cake decoration salesman who had his own business) – I don’t get squeamish over stuff around my origin. As I said: forgotten condom + late October night, 1962 + warm fire in the hearth at the time (according to Mum). Happened about a mile away from where I’m sitting typing this now. I love bein’ a bred local. 
Now you’ve got me curious… I think I’ll call my mom!
We’re not sure where our first son was concieved (I knew I was ovulating and we were doing it constantly), but we do know about the second boy- Sun Valley, Idaho, a hoity-toity ski resort where lots of celebs hang out or have homes (no, never saw any, but we had lunch in Bruce Willis’ diner in Hailey!). We were there for a long weekend, I was ovulating again, we had a three bedroom condo for just the two of us… yeah.
I got you all beat for embarassing conception stories.
When I was 15 and my brother had left for the Marines, my best friend and I were disassembling his California King-size waterbed (formerly my parents’, passed down to my brother, now being passed to me.)
To my horror, as we removed the matress, there was writing on one of the wooden planks underneath.
A little X with an arrow pointing to it, saying “It was on this spot, on a beautiful October night in 1980 [blah blah blah blah blah] that Cisco was conceived.”
My mom didn’t know it was there either, and she got mad at my dad and made him throw the piece of wood away and cut another to fit it.
My friend thought it was just about the funniest damn thing in the world. Strangely, I wasn’t laughing.
[sub]In case anyone was worried about any further squickiness, the bed had been through about 4 different matresses since that fateful night.[/sub]
Under a crab apple tree at my grandmothers house. Not very exciting, but maybe it was for my parents!
shudder No, and I’m perfectly happy in my ignorance.
I do know, however, that my mother went both to the DMV and Popeye’s (the chicken place) shortly before I was born. By that, I mean ‘between her water breaking and me entering the world’.
We need a ‘eyes squinched shut in horror’ smiley.
My dad once claimed to know exactly where both my brother and I were conceived (which is pretty sad, to me… what, was it so infrequent that you can pinpoint the exact date and place?!), but we made him be quiet before he told us.
Anyway, now he’s dead, but I do know that it was somewhere in Nova Scotia, which allows me to claim that I’ve lived in four provinces.
After he died, an old friend of theirs from Nova Scotia posted a photo of Mom and Dad on a camping trip on his property, where he said “I think this is where their elder son was conceived.” Mom looked at the photo and said, “Nope.”
For me, at any rate. I presume my brother was conceived in our house in Saint John, New Brunswick.
Additional matt-birth-trivia: a few years ago they blew up the hospital where I was born. I like to think of it as “breaking the mould.”
I was conceived on the 4th of July in New Orleans. My folks were going to start “trying”, so they decided to have a little vacation to boot. I was born a month early, 42 years ago yesterday.
I was conceived in August 1963 during my parents’ honeymoon in Italy. I was born in May 1964 and nearly a month late. They got married in May '63, but dad was in the Army and had to go deploy somewhere. They finally got to go on their honeymoon in August.
I was concieved February of 1983 at Hahn Air Force Base in West Germany.
My actual birthplace however, isn’t as exciting. My parents were transfered to Grand Forks, ND when mom was about 5 months pregnant…so there I was born. Yay.
er, conceived
I can at least think of this without any mental squickiness- I was conceived in the beginning of September 1983, in a petri dish at a clinic somewhere in Pennsylvania along with 7 possible siblings who didn’t come to be. Sometimes, it is very cool to have been a test tube baby.
I’m pretty sure that I was conceived in a test tube.
Or a Petri dish. Whatever.