Clean and Elegant

Clean and Elegant
Showing posts with label withdrawal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label withdrawal. Show all posts

Thursday, 17 April 2014

Birth Control

Crocs

My first week back in Montessori school in September, Friday night. the Boatman and I started to make out. I put his thigh between my leg and started to hump it.

I closed my eyes and visions of pink and red crocs floated in front of me. I’d spent the week pulling urine- saturated pants off the children who wore those crocs and spraying the crocs with Lysol. Rubbing my crotch harder against the Boatman’s thigh did not make the crocs in my head go away.

“I can’t,” I said to the Boatman.


Crocs
(Image from the Sunday Blog)
 
 
Pills

Lots of women I know went on birth control pills because their periods were odd and irregular. Some of them bled for three weeks straight, twice a year, or twelve times a year which sounds horrible. Others bled waterfalls, rushing back and forth to the bathroom managing their diva cups or their blood catching methods of choice.
I’ve heard of girls who have never menstruated at all and go on birth control to try and remedy their lacking or imbalanced hormones. Does this work? It seems sketchy to me.

Other reasons for going on birth control include bad zits and mood swings.
And of course lots of women go on birth control so that they won’t have babies. They take a different amount of hormones every day out of a little dispenser.  My old roommate had an alarm that went off every time she was supposed to take her “baby pills.” I have other friends who may or may not have taken their baby pills at the right time. Now they have real live babies.

Birth control isn’t very good for fish. We pee it out and then the fish drink our pee. The fish might grow a second head, or a very large scrotum. Something like that.
Birth control doesn’t work when you are on the antibiotic rifampin, the antifungal griseofulvin, various HIV medications, various anti-seizure medications, and St. John’s Wort. I learned this from Planned Parenthood.

When you go on birth control, you don’t get to have the exciting and spiritual experience of synchronizing your menstrual cycle with the moon. You’ll have to get your kicks elsewhere.


Baby Pills.
 
Pullout Method

I told a friend of mine that the Boatman and I used the withdrawal method.
He said, “You know what they call men who pull out?  Fathers.”

I told him that the Boatman has been pulling for over ten years, and never once got anyone pregnant. 

“Well, maybe he’s a dud,” said my friend.  I’d never thought of that, and when I did, I thought it wasn’t very nice. And I think my friend is wrong. We are part of the Pullout Generation and not everyone in it is a mother or a father
No public health nurse is going to recommend pulling out to teenage boys. Mostly, that would be a disaster. But after a certain number of orgasms, I don’t think it’s unrealistic for men to figure out the timing.

Of course we all have friends who have made babies while employing the withdrawal method. In approximately 100% of these cases, this happened because the penis remained in the vagina during ejaculation. That won’t work.
The withdrawal method might also not work if you have sex back to back without showering and peeing extensively. The sperm from the first time stays in the urethra which can make its way into where babies are made. If you are still horny after the first time around, I recommend humping things and/or putting different body parts in your mouth to get the edge off.

And/or  pee and/or shower thoroughly; however, some people think this is risky

People who give Pre-cum Lectures say that there is sperm in the pre-ejaculatory fluid even if you haven’t had any sex that day. There are not thousands of studies on the topic. The most cited study I have come across says that about 40 percent of 27 men had sperm in their pre-ejaculatory fluid, even though they peed between masturbation sessions. Regardless, the scientist inside of me would say that more studies are needed.  Also, if you’re the type of person who signs up for a masturbation study, perhaps you’re the type of person who arrives at the study having recently masturbated.
In any case, whatever sperm that makes it into pre-cum must not be that plentiful or potent because Planned Parenthood says that if used perfectly (and I’m quite sure that the Boatman is a withdrawing hero), only 4 couples out of 100 will get pregnant. For condoms, the stats are 2 out of 100. Oral contraception and the IUD are closer to perfect, but also a great deal more invasive. Knowing the Boatman’s odds before me, I am happy to give up less than a handful of chances of getting pregnant and join the simplicity of Generation Pullout. Wiser couples track their fertility at the same time, and use condoms during their more fertile times. Despite the crocs, we don’t even do that. I look forward to menopause when I can smugly or un-smugly letting you know how this went.

Speaking of smug, I love the song, “Pregnant Women are Smug,” and it enters my head approximately four times a week, and/or every time I see a pregnant woman, whichever is more.

 
 
It is my dream to witness a birth, but so far no one has invited me. If you invite me, I promise I won’t say anything about it on the blog.
The End.
If you'd like to invite me to your birth, let me know: 

On Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
 
 
 
 

 
 

Thursday, 8 August 2013

What the fuck should I do with my life? Part Two

Part Two: Becoming A Princess and/or Having Children 
I could become a princess or a duchess and give birth to my prince and walk out to the world with an uncontracted uterus. 
 
When you ask them what they want to be when they grow up, all the little girls I work with have princess wrapped into some part of their desired occupation.

I want to be a princess chef.
A princess busdriver.
 
A princess policeman.

A doctor and a princess.
 
This is old news, but over the last couple of weeks, everyone was talking about Kate Middleton's uncontracted uterus. About the nerve she was sporting her "baby belly" to the whole world. Some people judged. Other marvelled at how brave she was. As though the scariest thing in the world is to reveal your uncontracted uterus.

Kate and her princes
I can relate. I fear the uncontracted uterus.
 
From a young age, my deepest fears included getting a double chin and having my stomach stick out more than my boobs. My boobs have always been tiny and so it wouldn't take much for my stomach to extend beyond them. To prevent the double chin, I used to read books and do my homework with my chin propped a pillow. To prevent the protruding abdomen, I was constantly doing crunches and sit-ups.
 
My stomach got hard and and chiselled. It's not that sad a story except once an osteopath told me that if I got pregnant, I would probably have a hard time. My abdominals would split in half and sag forever.
 
I'm ashamed that this terrifies me so much.
I'm ashamed that this is one of the main reasons I am terrified of having children.
One of the other reasons is that someone told me that since having kids, she can't use tampons anymore. They just slide out. As for the diva cup, alas, it leaks.

Apparently this is not that common.
Usually the vag recovers quite well.
 
If not, we all have high vaginas that will never ever desert us.
My High Vagina. Me and Keira Knightley both have one.
Once I wrote that birth was a Hideous Annihilation for someone else.
 
At the time, I think I was drinking too much.

Despite my sit-up frenzies and pillow facelifts, I used to think that I would grow up and become a wonderful mother. I babysat like crazy and imagined that I would be like all my favourite moms, making whole grain banana bread, reading to my children, and having a job that allowed me to be around when they came home from school for lunch.
 
Now I am afraid of a saggy belly?

The saggy stomach, the tamponless vagina, probably these are terrible reasons not to have children. What are the good reasons?
Overpopulation. Climate change. Having children during a tornado or during the end of the world is impractical.
 
A couple of weeks ago I sent myself the following email:

Don't ever have children. No children for you. You are hysterical. Chill the fuck out.

I had just had a mammoth tantrum over whether or not to have a smoothie for breakfast, or oatmeal, or both. It was pathetic. 
27-year-old tantrums may be a good reason not to have children.
 
The other reason is, the kid may end up being just like you.

Fuck.
My friend Fern likes animals signficantly more than people, and children.

I was with her when she learned that someone who she didn't particularly like had given birth.
"Why the fuck did she have a kid? She barely has her shit together herself. What is it that makes people arrogant enough to believe that they are worthy of reproduction?"
 
She went on a rant about people passing on shitty genes and suffering and babies being bad for the environment. Her rant left me somewhat offended and taken aback. At the time, I had just begun to reconcile myself to contaminating the gene pool with my own hideous annihilation. This was before I got my job at the Montessori school.
 
Children are delightful for varying amounts of time. I might never be able to forgive my child if my stomach expanded and then never came back down to the same flat, hard formation ever again. What a horrible burden for the child to bear. It would have to spend its whole life making up for my sad saggy stomach. I tell myself that I would also resent a child if it wrecked my yoga practice, and that probably it would. But then I think, what is a better thing to do, to press into your hands and lift yourself off the ground with one leg behind your head and the other up your ass, or to make a real live person who in twenty years will probably be better at everything you’ve ever tried in your life?

Hard to say.
I guess we'll see how effective the withdrawal method turns out to be and then we'll find out, or we won't.  

The End.