Thurtson & I have been married for seven years now. Who is Thurston I hear you ponder. Thurston is the husband. Who one day decided that his given name wasn't good enough for Facebook and so changed his name to Thurston Pooter Darnworth III. And Facebook said, sure you can change your name but you have to keep it for at least 6 months because whilst we don't like it when people get drunk and come up with stupid names, we're not married to you. So not our problem.
So, like I was saying Thursty and I have been married for seven years. Together for twelve and have recently crossed the threshold into our thirties. The next step on the board game of life is procreation. We typically hum and ha, go back and forth but parenthood remains a mysterious "adult channel" that we don't feel prepared for without causing some major scarring. Both mental and physical.
Of course if you've read my blog before you'll also know that nothing reminds me how much I want a child more than the onslaught of pregnancy announcements. Facebook can be great for many things, like online stalking old classmates to see if their life is shitier than yours because today you just really need a win. Facebook is useless at determining your mood and filtering your news feed accordingly. So they will show you post upon post of grainy alien sonograms. Followed by an advert to track your pregnancy. All the while knowing the only thing you're nursing is the half empty bottle of Chardonnay you just posted about. With the caption "when will they develop an app to know when I'm out of wine and have a replacement bottle rushed over stat". Because to be honest, sometimes it's hard to get through my Facebook news feed without alcohol. Why? Because people suck. Side note, I totally sounded like a doctor then. I need 10ccs of Vodka stat. No clue how much 10ccs is but I'm pretty sure I can handle it.
You may be thinking, this chick doesn't need to have a kid right now, she's clearly not in control of her emotions. Of course Facebook isn't out to get her. And you're right. On both accounts. And so I went off my birth control. Yes, do take the time to reread that last sentence because after everything I just wrote, the next logical step of an illogical person is to come off birth control.
I did it for the following reason with no discussion with my gynecologist and little discussion with the husband. Though of course he knows about it because otherwise it might seem like I was trying to trap him in a pregnancy because you know, he may just wake up one day & think WTF and leave.
At my last lady doctor visit, you know the kind where they try to make small talk whilst inserting a rib spreader inside you, it dawned on me that I'd been taking birth control for close to twelve years. And that, to me, just seemed like a really long time to be taking artificial hormones. But what do I know, I'm not a doctor. Still, I wondered how would my body perform without the contraceptive pill. Would it know how to ovulate and menstruate on time. And most importantly could it remove all the weight I gained when I started taking the pill. And maybe take the additional 60lbs of cupcake weight too. Let me just say, my body knows how to menstruate. It's only been two months but my period has been on point.
In regards to the whole not getting pregnant thing...I have an app. One that's designed to help people get pregnant so I pretty much just do the opposite. When it says it's time to get busy, I don't. I've also set myself a reminder to hide the alcohol during ovulation because it doesn't take that much vodka to drink away all your common sense. Should probably invest in some condoms too. Just in case. Because I don't think the vodka can ever be hidden well enough when you're the one hiding it.
The following is a snippet of conversation between my mum & I on social media, following a very innocent dinner pic (yes, I'm one of those people) captioned: "I'm not a huge fan of posting my meals on social media but sometimes it's just too delicious not to snap a pic & share. Was seriously craving some sweet potatoes today and the hubby made it happen #latergram #stuffed #dinner #healthyeating #sweetpotato" The word "craving" is where she heard Zebras and not horses. But when you've waited seven years to hear Zebras, can you blame her?
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