According to Mom, I was conceived on vacation in New Orleans. She told me this in the same conversation that she told me that I should always be careful with birth control. She’d been on the pill for the first 6 years of their marriage. They decided to start trying, so she went off the pill. A month later, in New Orleans, I was conceived.
That’s definitely TMI from the parents! :eek:
What’s the second verse Inigo?
Wish I knew. The only time I ever heard it was in 1995 on a 6 mile Brigade run at Ft. Stewart. I was laughing so hard I had to fall out and catch up later.
How I was conceived.
By Grits and Hard Toast
On the day my dad proposed to my mother, she declined. She said it wouldn’t be fair to him. She told him her horrible secret, she was not able to have children. She advised him to find someone else who could. Dad said that was actually wonderful news. He had a terrible childhood, and as a result, couldn’t stand to be around kids. He didn’t want children. A perfect match!
Then five years later, something has gone terribly wrong. Mom is pregnant. They hope for a miscarriage, but that is not to be. The doctors can only console them with the fact that since the baby will have to be delivered by C-section, they can tie Mom’s tubes while they are in there, so this unfortunate event will not be repeated. That gives them some comfort.
They have a colicky infant, who becomes a terror as a toddler. Things are bad, very bad. Mom asks Dad to leave, Dad is more than happy to oblige. Things can’t get any worse. But they do. My mother’s idol, and America’s hope for the future, is shot and killed in a parade in Dallas.
Mom is devastated. Although she usually doesn’t drink, she buys a bottle of red wine. She drinks the whole bottle. Dad comes by to check on her, he knows how devoted she was to JFK.
This is where the stories diverge. Mom claims Dad “took advantage of her in her depressed, drunken state.” Dad says he gave her “aid and comfort in her time of mourning.” End result is the same. Pregnant again.
Mom sees this most unexpected turn of events as a sign from God she should reunite with her husband. Dad figures this next one can’t be as bad as the first one, and accepts her invitation to come back home.
But this time the doctors recommend an abortion. It is just too risky for her to have a baby, she is just too old, over 40 years old. Mom was not supposed to be able to have kids anyway, then her tubes were tied, then they split up. It takes a presidential assignation and a bottle of wine to bring them together. They decide this baby is just meant to be, and refuse the abortion. They remain together until Dad’s death, 28 years later.
So I owe my existence to Lee Harvey Oswald. Creepy. I have often wanted to do a search of people whose date of birth is around mine, and ask them if they too, are a result of Kennedy’s death.
Wow. Just… wow.
And did you conceive any kids? If so, when and where?
Well, I don’t know how i was conceived (although I came into the knowledge of a few enlightening events surrounding my conception, a couple years ago), but my bro was conceived on my Dad’s b-day in 1981 (he forgot to pick up protection, and they figured “what the hell?”).
I’m honestly rather afraid to ask. I’d probably get all sorts of extreme close-up details I wouldn’t want, knowing me mum.
bamf
Porbably in the middle of a lot of moving boxes. I was born nine months after my parents bought their home.
At a Holiday Inn. Mom says they ate chicken liver that night, she figures that made them potent. :eek:
I was conceived on a particular beach on the banks of the Salmon River during a whitewater trip. My dad used to be a professional river guide, and my mom frequently accompanied him on his trips. According to Mom, I spent enough time on the river in utero to qualify as a guide myself. I can’t row for beans, though. 
Great idea this thread. Got me thinking not where but why I was even conceived at all. Spring 1943, parents imprisoned in a relocation center in southern Idaho along with all the rest of the Japanese-Americans, first generation (Grandparents), second generation (Parents), third generation (Brother). Sharing a one story barracks with several other families. 300 miles from home, in the middle of nowhere, with no idea when, if ever, they would get out.
Lights out at 10PM. Curfew, so nothing else to do. But still, either my father was pretty darn determined, or my mother had some convoluted scheme for getting out of there.
It actually worked. Two weeks before I was born, the governor of Colorado announced the state would welcome the Japanese-Americans (worker shortage problem, I believe) and zip, out the gate they went.
My father says mom was determined not to have a baby born in the ‘camps’… In honor of their determination to persevere, I think I will have a bunch of medallions made up saying ‘Old Goat was conceived here’ and ‘Or maybe it was here’ and go back to Minidoka ID and scatter them around to place.
Whenever I tried to ask them, Why? They would just stare at me and say, ‘Good Question’ 
This could be something I genetically inherited, but more likely due to my enviornment growing up, but my husband and I have decided not to have kids.
I do worry as I approach the age my mother was when she had me, that history may repeat itself. I was also told I would not be able to have kids. Although science has progressed in the past 40 years, and it might be possible now, I really don’t have a desire to go down that road.
I got ya beat… I was conceived in Redondo Beach, CA and born in New London, CT.
Nope.
But my daughter will be able to answer this question someday. Her name is Tasman.
Oh yeah, I wasn’t trying to compete in any contest there. I’m sure loads and loads of people were born and conceived in spots a hell of a lots farther away than Oakland and San Francisco. It’s like a five minute drive, unless the metering lights are on.
I was most likely conceived in my (now divorced) parents’ bed. They’re boring types, and I can’t ask them now, so I’ll just assume.
Mr. Frail, however, was conceived in a ditch by the side of a snowy state route in Michigan. Their car was stuck. What else could they do until help arrived?
Both happened in late October/early November, but his in 1977 and mine in 1980.
October, 1942. Somewhere Casablanca was being filmed. I was conceived between String of Pearls and Opus One – or maybe it was the other way around. That’s the time frame. Small town South. In the house my parents lived in for fifty years.
I believe that I was concieved while my parents were vacationing in Hawaii. They refuse to divulge any details, but they did tell me they were in Hawaii roughly nine months before I was born, and vacations seem as good a time as any to get it on.
I suspect my youngest brother was concieved when I was eight, in 1997, while my parents were in Las Vegas and my other younger brother and I were staying at my grandmother’s house. Simply because my parents aren’t the type to have sex with their kids in the house.
A few years ago, I idly counted nine months back from my birthday, Sept. 26. “That’s interesting,” I thought, “Christmas!” So I asked my mom about it. Turns out I was conceived on Christmas Eve, 1980, at my grandmother’s house. Merry Christmas, Grandma!
Alright then… only 2 posts and you’ve already been added to The List. (Warning: old thread, do not bump.)
Flamsterette_X and I post those every month.