Friends, it hurts a lot to admit this, but I feel like I have to.
I used to make fun of people who kept having “accidents” and getting pregnant. How, highkey judged. I mean we’re grown people. We know how human reproduction works by now, don’t we?
But now – now I understand.
Although I follow my ovulation religiously and don’t necessarily want a fifth child, my husband and I still don’t use condoms when we have sex – and of course, thanks to evolution, I just really really want to have sex with someone who doesn’t is a BTS member when I am fertile. Then of course I’ll have to wait two more weeks to make sure I’m not pregnant – and because I refuse to pay $ 15 for two pregnancy tests (if that’s not a rip off, I don’t know what is) and nothing more Got the stretch test strips I used to buy in bulk – there’s that time (no pun intended) of uncertainty where any premenstrual symptom is also an early sign of pregnancy.
That is much.
Also, I told my non-zero husband that I was ovulating and that we must use a condom, but when the time came (still no pun intended) we didn’t use one.
What can I say? We like to live on the edge.
The thing is, it’s totally preventable. Not only do I understand basic human biology, I have actively tried (and succeeded) four times to get pregnant and written many articles on fertility and pregnancy.
Why am i like this
Well, for one thing, I really despise condoms.
It’s completely irrational. I’m not even sure I can tell the difference. I hate the idea of ​​condoms and while I always take them out and make sure they are close at hand, we never use them.
Second, I refuse to resume hormonal birth control. For example, I spent over a decade on birth control and then had four babies in a row – I paid my damn dues. Why should birth control be my damn problem now? Yes / Yes. I realize that getting pregnant would be an even bigger problem – but also – why the hell is it up to me not to get pregnant when he should also remember not to get me pregnant?
I understand that I could just get a copper coil – but I don’t want to. I don’t want a tubal ligation (although I would have if my last pregnancy required a caesarean section). I don’t want to do any more work (again, no play on words) related to birth control.
Why can’t it just be chopped off? They literally get you to watch a video and then schedule an appointment for an outpatient procedure! You show up, shave your eggs, they give you a local anesthetic, they cut a hole in your scrotum, pull out your vas deferens, cut it off, and then seal it with stitches. The hole is small enough to heal without stings – as if my child got more stitches when their forehead hit a premature sharp corner – and you go home with some ibuprofen and ice.
And then, after ten days of no sex or masturbation – you’re back! (Just wait until you get the all-clear on your three-month check-up to make sure you’re taking blank shots before having unprotected sex.)
Why isn’t the urologist right next to the maternity and delivery ward? It really should be a two for one drive-by special!
(To be fair, my husband is unwilling to have a vasectomy – he just never took the time to schedule an appointment. However, it’s been four and a half years since the last baby. Come on, dude. )
Men, please learn how the female reproductive system works
In addition, men need to strengthen the female reproductive system. Because when I told my husband I was four days late and he was upset about the possibility of another child and I said, hey, do you remember when I told you I was ovulating? And then my beloved husband admitted he didn’t understand what that meant, my brain recording stalling and–
I –
My husband didn’t know what ovulation meant. Let me repeat. A 44-year-old adult man didn’t know what ovulation meant to him. Men are so unbearably stupid.
I was so stunned that I might have told him that to his face. (He just shrugged in embarrassment.) His excuse? I usually took care of it, so he thought I would know if it was okay for him to invade me.
Okay, we’re both excruciatingly stupid
Now before I get a ton of irresponsible emails playing cum roulette, my husband and I should prefer not to have a fifth child, but we are financially and emotionally able to support one if we should we decide to keep a child until the end of fifth pregnancy.
I’ve given away most of our baby supplies and while I always get baby fever whenever I see my younger friends get pregnant or post pictures of their adorable newborns, I know we’re done with the kids. Our children are finally old enough to be largely independent (or old enough to be reasonably well looked after by their older siblings). I enjoy the freedom of kids who generally prefer to ignore me unless they want more screen time – although my youngest child may have an inappropriate attachment to my boobs (I mean, someone should appreciate them).
Why am I risking everything?
My only conclusion is that maybe I really wouldn’t mind fixing another sniffy baby with its fat arm rolls and ham thighs and the ease of solving any problems with a clean diaper or bosom. Either that or I’m really an idiot.
