The Diaphragm Experience: The Top
January 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
Alright people, today we are going to talk about contraception. Family planning is essential, just ask the 16 year old who’s got to tell her parents she’s eating for two. That’s a priceless look from dad. Come on America, did we not learn anything from the first season of Glee? Speaking of which, am I the only one who was really uncomfortable when Quinn and the other teen soon-to-be-mommies did that preggers dance? Not as charming as Juno. Eight pregnant teenagers dancing in a sultry fashion isn’t an image for network television. “Sending an important message about birth control and tolerance,” my ass. I’ll send an important message about birth control: during childbirth you can rip your perineum. Yeah, that’s from one hole to another, and if you were paying attention in anatomy class you know there’s only three down there, so guess which two are becoming one. Chew on that, then tell me you still feel weird about insisting he wears a condom.
Ah yes, we all agree, it really DOES feel so good without a rubber. I say, if you’re STD free and so is he, that’s one little diver that won’t be needing his wetsuit. This is where my dilemma lies: what form of contraception is best for me, ahem–excuse me, for us? See, I have this winter boyfriend, Mr. Right Now. I am single-ish and don’t judge me just because I like to keep a man around during the cold months as a personal heater and to lift heavy things from the car to the house. Plus it’s hard to be a floozy targeting casual sex when it’s too chilly to wear a bikini. One of my favorite things the Polar Bear and I have in common is phenomenal sexual agility. If he keeps this up, I might have to keep him on through spring. When we became monogamous after the first frost we both got tested and I’m happy to report that we are both squeaky clean. The problem is neither one of us have enough money for birth control, so… I guess that makes us pretty good parents? KIDDING! Last winter after I retired that season’s boyfriend I went off my oral contraceptive and experienced some lady complications, therefore I’m a little weary of getting back on the hormonal bucking bronco.
Don’t get me wrong, the pill (who just had it’s 50th birthday last year) is one of the greatest inventions/discoveries of all time. Woohoo! Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. Just set an alarm on your phone, carry around a little compact of hormones, swallow a pill no bigger than a nugget of granola, and PRESTO! Babymaker temporarily out of order. And now, the pill isn’t just a pill, you have more hormonal options then ever before. You got your 4 bloody marys per year kind, the 3 day light flow kind, the shove a ring up my vag kind, the patch kind (which doesn’t give me the impression it actually works, but I guess it does), the shot in the ass kind, the never ever have a period ever kind, and all that shits basically fool proof. You got to really be brain dead or on crack to mess up today’s birth control. But as with all prescriptions now, no matter what brand, it comes with a laundry list of side effects waiting to pounce on your little uterus. I can’t tell you how many of my girlfriends I’ve this conversation with, and chances are if you have complaints, you’re on the wrong kind.
Think about it, if you’re on hormones the birth control is basically telling your body it’s got a bun in the oven. No wonder you have weird food cravings, irrational mood swings and a decrease in sexual appetite, your eggo think’s your preggo! I’m no doctor, but that seems a little backwards. Most GYNs say your body gets used to the cycle of hormones and the side effects will even out after a few months, but even after being on it for over a year, I was still crying at commercials for fabric softener and my lbs were climbing the scale faster then an 8 year old boy climbs a rope in gym class. It was like my ass was getting off on the stretch marks. After going pretty much bat-shit crazy (see CGS), I bought a cosco-sized box of condoms and swore off hormones. Of course, once off the pill I became hornier than ever, and being newly single, I’d say that plan kinda backfired.
Let’s fast forward to the current predicament. I need to have great condomless sex, but I should not become pregnant. I live in a studio apartment and my car isn’t exactly reliable, not the best environment for child rearing. I don’t want to go back on the pill. Between now and when I originally went off it, I skipped 6 periods. Let me tell you, 6 months without a monthly visitor equal a lot of pregnancy tests and psychosomatic insanity. The sad part was, it would have had to be the Immaculate Conception because I was going through a bit of a dry spell. As a result I learned it’s impossible for your vibrator to induce a baby bump. My woman parts doc just loves my introspective questions. The thought of becoming a blubbering PMS case and gaining 10lbs in my boobs which are already too big (I know, not a common problem), combined with the possibility the pill had made me barren for half a year drove me to research other options. Meanwhile, the Polar Bear and I are exercising the “pull out” method, which I know doesn’t work if he gets prematurely ecstatic.
I took the webMD “what contraceptive is best for you” test online. Turns out, the “pull out” method is actually pretty effective when “practiced correctly,” but it’s not something that a woman could ever know for sure was “practiced correctly.” A barrier method was rated best for me, even though it’s not as effective as hormones by about 8%. I happen to think that 8% is a lot when the consequence is harboring a uterine parasite like a fetus for 9 months just to have it shoot out your twat after it grows to the size of a football. An IUD would be a dream if I had the funds, because I don’t even want to think about incubating offspring until I’m 32. But that’s not realistic for my current bank statement, the calendar thing is risky because sometimes I barely know what day of the week it is and there was all that stuff about taking your temperture and monitoring the mucus-ness of your discharge. Gross! And just the thought of a female condom is foul. So… diaphragm it is!
***Please note, this is a two-piece post, like a bikini. Come back on Wednesday to get the bottom half of the story. As always, comments and discussion on these hot topics are encouraged.