Today I have a guest post thrown down by Ricky Anderson. I met Ricky on the world wide web but it wasn’t through a dating service and it wasn’t in a chat room. I don’t know why but I feel like I have to clarify how I meet people on the Internet. It was through a mutual blogging friend. I left a comment on a blog about the infertility issues that Monica and I had. He read the comment and then came to my blog. I haven’t been able to get rid of him since…and that’s a good thing. Read his guest post below and then check out his blog here.

Rob has been pretty open about the difficulties he and Monica had getting pregnant. While I can’t say I’ve been through everything they’ve been through, I can relate a little bit.

My wife and I tried for two and half years before we were successful. During that time, we sought help from an infertility treatment center.

You’d be surprised how many ways they can test you. You’d be even more surprised how many ways they can humiliate you while doing so.

I won’t go into what the woman has to endure, because I’d probably pass out from the squeamishness of it. I’m not going to pretend anything the man has to go through is even an iota near what the woman goes through…I’ll let a woman write about that!

At the doctor’s request, I went to have a “specimen” collected and tested at the lab. As you can guess, I was a bit nervous about this. I’m not the most outgoing guy in the world, so ‘nervous’ would be an understatement. I felt like I was about to take the stage at Saturday Night Live, in my underwear, with no script.

I trepidatiously made my way to the counter and said hello to the grumpy lady behind it. I looked both ways, and quickly handed her the folded doctor’s note (I would make a horrible drug dealer or CIA agent). She hardly glanced at it, handed me a plastic cup, and directed me down the hall toward the restrooms.

Yada, yada, yada…

I made my way back down the hall, alternately studying the wall and the floor. I nervously approached the grumpy lady behind the counter once more.

“Did you write your name, social security number and today’s date on the label?”, she asked.

“Uh…no. Didn’t know I needed to do that. Sorry.”, I mumbled.

“Here’s a pen. Take it back to the restroom and fill out the label. You can’t do that here at the counter.” She hadn’t looked up during my chiding.

I sheepishly headed back to finish my paperwork and shortly returned.

I looked both ways, then quickly slid my pro-life contribution across the counter. She picked it up and made a frowny face, which quickly evolved into a look of complete terror.

She exclaimed loudly, “We don’t collect THAT type of specimen at this office! You have to go to our other location downtown!”

If they had an Olympic event for how quickly you could exit a humiliating situation, I would have taken home the gold!

What’s an embarrassing situation you’ve had to run from?