For some reason I felt compelled to ask my mom this a few years ago.
My grandpa’s house.
I never asked anything else.
I was conceived in a trailer in my grandmother’s back yard, where my parents were living temporarily while they looked for a house. Christmas morning, 1980.
I always thought it would be cool to be a test tube baby.
I don’t know where I was conceived. Thanks to you people, I’m now a little more curious. However, if I call my mother and ask, I’m sure she will laugh. I prefer to think that she and my father were carrying out their conjugal activities as usual and they just got lucky one night.
By having me, of course. Obviously they had already gotten lucky.
On a set of stairs to nowhere, in my mom’s old apartment. Doggystyle.
It came out as my parents were absolutely smashed around a campfire with some friends of ours. That’s all the detail I needed.
In a tent outside a house my parents were pretty much tearing and rebuilding. Apparently it was raining a lot, and since the house didn’t have a roof there wasn’t a whole lot to do…
Ahem. 9 months and three weeks later, along I came. I slept in a porta-crib in the master bedroom for quite a while. Obviously, it was not the time in their lives when they’d intended to start a family.
Oddly, I’ve known this for a long time. I can’t even remember when I first heard it.
Dunno exactly what date it was.
That would be the master bath. The master bedroom wasn’t completely done, so there wasn’t room.
Mom would freak if I asked. Once she got over that, she’d tell me either a) it was a miracle, or b) that it’s none of my business. I’m quite certain in happened (on a different mattress) in the bed I sleep in now, in the barracks that were used for married staff housing at Michigan State. My parents got my grandparents’ bedroom suite at some point. My dad and aunt were conceived in that bed, Grandma kindly confided to me a while ago. Yes, she was pretty uninhibited. (I’m in favor of the squinchy-eyed eewww smiley too.)
GT
I like to think that a petri dish and an anonymnous doner were involved. Unfortunately, I doubt it and my father probably really is. I don’t get grossed out at the thought of my mother having sex - just bewildered at what she saw in my dad.
Thanksgiving Day 1976 (which was also Mom’s birthday that year).
Right after the turkey and “Arsenic and Old Lace.”
43 weeks later, there I was.
Did she find out who the father was? It was probably on the night where they have their special Square Dance.
I was conceived in Oakland, but my parents moved to San Francisco before I was born, so I never lived there.
Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.
Well my mom happens to be staying with me for a few weeks, so I’ve just read aloud from this thread to her and asked her. Pretty neat story.
Way back in November of 1969, Mom had gone to a family funeral out of state. Dad had to stay behind to work and when Mom came home it was to the very bad news that a close friend had unexpectedly died. Mom’s homecoming was spent with the family, comforting the bewildered new widow. Dad and Mom were very saddened and comforted one another in the most life-affirming way possible.
I debuted a bit early the following June. 
Since my parents don’t seem to be like the types to “do it” in adventurous places, I’m assuming I was conceived in the house I lived in until the second grade.
My parents were on holiday, in France.
I only know because it was a month-long holiday, and my mother is adamant I was born 2 weeks late.
The sad thing is I worked this out when they were expecting my youngest sister and my mum explained about 40 weeks from LMP for an average pregnancy(she’s a doctor, most 6 year old’s don’t get those kind of details). Put that together with my parents spending all of bloody July 1981 in France and that’s how I know.
I’ve never got up the courage to ask them WHERE in France though.
Unfortunately both my parents are deceased so can’t ask them, but I do know where and when my daughter was conceived. It was in my bed in my old apartment on the 15 May 2003. Exactly one month after my mother died and two weeks after I came back from her funeral. I was supposed to ovulate a week later, but I think I ovulated earlier from stress. I consider her a great blessing because she helped me get over my mother’s death.
bathtub in October 1978.
I don’t know where I was conceived, but I assume it was sometime between the time my dad had his vasectomy reversed and the time he had it redone. (He is a dedicated man, I’ll tell you what.) It was probably sometime around Valentine’s Day 1983, since that’s my mom’s birthday. I’ve never thought to ask and am quite certain I know enough as it is.
My parents were on a weekend trip to San Francisco. My dad swears that mom got him drunk and took advantage of him.
I don’t know the details, as I do not have a good enough relationship with my biological mom to ask. But seeing as how it was her high school teacher, I’m guessing it was either the dorm room, a local motel, or in the school. :eek:
He was her (then) fiance. Perhaps needless to stay he wasn’t a fiance soon after. :wally