Let’s talk about birth control. These days I’m like a pendulum, baby-crazy one moment and baby-scaring-the crap-out-of-me the next. When the kids are angels, I think “hey, this is a piece of cake, I can easily handle 6 or 7” but five minutes later I’ll be all like “this is insane and these babies are going to have me for breakfast”. I personally blame the postpartum hormones.
In my saner moments, I think we’re going to hold out on Operation Populate The World and take some drastic measures on the birth control before I get suckered in by the googly eyes and baby smell.
But first let me preface this by saying that BIRTH CONTROL SUCKS. Like every single method invented by man sucks. It’s either useless or ouchie or ewww. It’s like a huge conspiracy so that mankind does not become extinct. I know I sound like a sex-crazed 14-year-old but the truth is, unprotected sex rocks big time. And there’s that element of surprise like am I gonna get preggers this time. What about this time? Or this time?
I’ve done extensive research on Wikipedia, the most *reliable* source of information and here is an exhaustive list of all the contraceptives known to man and why they suck so bad.
Hailed as the most popular method, it boasts an effectiveness level of 99% when used correctly (that means you have to actually “put it on” as the Spice Girls would say). Here’s the problem. It’s made from latex and disgustingly oily. The first time I touched it, I actually squirmed and flung it against the wall. I bet that’s what lizard skin feels like. Oh gros, just thinking about it gives me shingles. Needless to say, it’s not going anywhere near my thing, which of course, the husband is enthusiastically supportive of.
2. Female condom.
This is like a woman’s worst nightmare. It’s got all the same problems as the male version, except worse because it’s gotta be inserted *deep* before the sexytime and there’s a pouch that hangs out the whole time. Also, it’s possibly LESS effective. WHY then would anyone want to do this?
3. Cervical barriers (i.e. contraceptive sponge, cervical cap, diaphragm)
You’d think it can’t get worse, but it can. All of these methods work the same way, which is to block out the sperm from reaching the uterus. But the way to do it is to literally put something in the way to block it. In other words, you gotta stuff it in way in advance and there’s no guarantee that you’re doing it right.
Besides, let’s not forget the pain involved here. During Kirsten’s delivery, the cervix check was the most terrifying thing I had to endure. I almost sucker-punched the nurse who jabbed me repeatedly like as if she was making pumpkin pie. I still have a voodoo doll of her which I stick needles in from time to time. Bottom line, I’m not putting anything inside.
4. Hormonal methods (the Pill/Patch)
In my opinion, the best option. Non-invasive and so convenient. Just pop a pill every morning or walk around with a cute little sticker on my ass. I went on the pill during the honeymoon and at first, I was one happy camper. All the unprotected sex and all I had to do was take a tiny little pill.
2 days in, I started getting the worst bout of nausea ever. I felt so sick i was totally in no mood for any whoopee, so that kinda became a little counterproductive. According to the gynae, it’s caused by the hormones and it’s one of the common side effects for the pill. Long story short, my body doesn’t like its hormones to be messed with, so I’m back to square one.
5. IUD (Intrauterine devices)
The awesome thing is that it can last for 5 to 10 years so it’s practically like nonexistent. You get it fitted by a doctor once and that’s it for the next 10 years. Sounds awesome. Until I saw a picture of the device that I’m going to be carrying around for a whole decade.
It looks like an ice pick, you know the thing they used to kill Trotsky and perform lobotomies. I’m not carrying that thing around, alright. Who know what damage it’s going to do to my uterus.
After our failed experience with the pill, our next contraceptive method was withdrawal. Either we’re too fertile and our combined powers are too much for this method to be effective or we were doing it wrong. Either way, Truett is a testament to the (non)effectiveness of coitus interruptus. Look how well that worked out for us.
Seeing that I’ve already been through a major surgery and an almost surgery (the gynae had to episiotomize me ok), it’s only fair that I shouldn’t have to go under the knife a third time in 2 years. Which leaves only 1 more option.
Never mind that it makes grown men go weak in the knees. I think it’s a male instinct not to let anything even go near their testicles. But what can I say? A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. When all else fails, he’s gotta step up and take one for the team, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I hear it’s reversible, so there’s nothing to worry about.