My daughter was very unexpected; we’d been told we had a less-than-1% chance of conceiving without help, so we’d basically given up. Yet, somehow it happened.
The “where” is easy. The “when” is kinda funny…I can’t tell you the exact day, but I can tell you the exact time: 1 AM. It’s become a running joke between us. “See you at 1 AM.”
I know the approximate timeframe/location for the first two because they were both a result of us “trying”. My daughter, however, I know exactly the circumstances. A local church has this “Parents Night Out” thing where you can drop off the kids for a few hours and they watch movies and play games, etc. Well, ours ended up being “Parents Night IN” and I remember there being some discussion of birth control and I, being in no mood to curtail the level of activity, said something to the effect of “Nah, let 'er rip”. :o
Actually it was a schoolgirl outfit. And I looked good. 
This would explain the relatively high number of pregnancies at Catholic schools across the nation.
Yup, it could only have been one of two possible occasions.
It was on vacation in Mexico, either in the hotel in Merida or in the hotel next to the ruins of Chichen Itza.
I like the latter, because I really thought Chichen Itza was great, if horrifying in its imagry. 
Though it would have been better if he was actually conceived on the top the great pyramid … sadly, that wasn’t really possible, they lock the place at night and it is full of tourists during the day. 
My wife preferred Merida, because she thinks Chichen Iza is a place with bad vibes. Plus, we befriended a cat living in the guesthouse there who had kittens, and she swears up and down that it was the sight of this cat that finally made her really want a kid - thinking if the cat can do it, so can we.
It’s amazing to find out such a long time afterwards that I’m not the only woman who got morning sickness right after having sex, probably the day my son was conceived. I don’t usually vomit after sex.
We were in London, my first experience having sex in a deep feather bed. Perhaps because of what happened afterwards, I remember that lovemaking session quite clearly, including the overwhelming feeling of love for my husband that I experienced then. * We were on our way to France, Belgium, Italy, Spain, then north to Holland and Denmark. I barfed my way across those countries.
*I tend to consider sex as a rough-n-tumble, hot activity, not at all romantic, so that was almost unusual.
My kid was made in a lab on the corner of 28th & Chicago via invitro.
Someday I’ll drive him there and point it out to him. “See, that’s where they made you.”
Dio says you didn’t so you didn’t.
Yep- both of them.
Number One Son was conceived during lunchtime, when I drove to my husband’s workplace to pick him up & drive to the apartment for sex. He protested, saying something about Judge XYZ wanting him to join him for lunch in chambers to discuss a case. I said something like “Fuck that! You tell him that I’m ovulating and you’ll see him this afternoon!!!”
Number Two Son was conceived in Sun Valley, Idaho. It was an all-expenses paid trip from our Land Rover dealership (private frigging jet up there, 3 bedroom condo for three days, rental car), also our first trip away together without #1 Son, and finally, the first egg drop after I stopped taking the pill again (we were “thinking about” trying again). Bingo!
Yup, sure do. March 7, 1969, at the beach. My first time, so it was memorable even before I got the test results.
It was Good Friday at 3pm.
Thanksgiving, 2005, drunk off our asses on Bailey’s and coffee, and two bottles of wine, after getting snowed in from trying to go visit my family in Virginia.
Granted, we were trying and still had a slim chance that month, but I’d written it off as a lost month due to timing. It made me laugh that we had given up on that month (because no way was I going to try to have sex in my parents’ house with a shitload of family around for the holiday simply because I was ovulating) and ended up with enough snow to keep us home.
Kid one: on the kitchen floor on my husband’s birthday.
Kid two: in our bedroom on Halloween night.
First whilst skiing at Big Sky
Second whilst skiing at Bariloche
Third whilst snowed in in Baku for several days
We have moved to tropical regions.
One night in February when we stayed in instead of going out, on a purple beanbag chair. I distinctly remember thinking , afterward, “Oh, wow, what if this time I actually got pregnant?”
I threw out that beanbag chair last year.
Yep. Christmas Eve. Right after a good ole’ fight! Right here in the same house I’m typing this right now!
I must say, that we made one hell of a good looking, smart kid. My greatest handiwork to date. Unlikely to be surpassed.
Yep. We’re coming up on “fertile week” next week. Both my kids were conceived the first week of April (I’ll spare the details) and born around the week after Christmas. Until the factory is shuttered, I’m staying the heck away from my spouse for that week from now on.
What’s worse? Knowing the details of your own conception. Blargh.
Even worse? Know those of your much younger brother’s conception. shudder I was *there *that day up at camp. I still wonder if the other family members bought the “going out to pick cat tails” excuse like I did.
I don’t care that it runs counter to all that is known of biology, part of my mind simply refuses to believe my parents ever had sex.
My kid was probably made on the bed at my old house. Ironically that same bed has been passed down to my kid. Circle of life.
Heh. Until Dio is female and gives birth to a baby or two, his credibility in this matter sucks megaliths.