Girl Talk: The Pill

I have two kids. We don’t want any more. Really. Stop bugging us.

Andrew is too chicken concerned about the long-term mental effects of having a vasectomy—she writes, while secretly wanting to scream GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!—so yes, I am back on the pill. It’s been almost two months now, and the side effects have been a constant source of joy.

Doctor reminded me I could take the pills non-stop to avoid having a period. While my periods have never been a big deal, I chose to start my second pack immediately following the first as our vacation fell in the week I would have been menstruating. [Aside: Not a big deal as I am a tampon user and evangelist. Why do so many women insist on still using pads?]

Thank you, Pill, for causing me to drop lovely brown crud, which I can only assume is the junk from the thinning lining of my uterus, for almost 4 weeks now. It’s been a real pleasure having to wear sticky, sweaty pantiliners all this time. You are so generous.

Remembering how lovely my skin was during my early years on the pill—you’ll never know just how early—I was eager to see these same results in my mid-30s, as I do still battle with the occasional zit.

Thank you, Pill, for presenting me with the loveliest of breakouts right smack in the center of my chin. I’ve been admiring the collection of little red bumps for about three weeks now. So pretty.

And best of all... condom-free snuggle time with my husband! Jake is two now, so you know how long it’s been!

Thank you, Pill, for devouring my sex drive so much so that I can’t even stand the thought of a yummy kiss. Prior to your reappearance into my bloodstream, Andrew merely had to walk in the door and have to fend me off. Poor man. I don’t know how he could stand it.

So why am I still doing this to myself? Because the damned Federal Government only covers oral contraceptives for their employees. No IUDs, no vasectomies. Just the pill. Oh, but they do cover sex changes.

Sign me up.