Earlier this week, I went to see a gynocologist, for a check-up and to discuss birth control options. I have used nothing but condoms for the last six years, so I thought it was time to review what else is available.
Normally I dread doctors and avoid them at all costs. In this case, I wanted to have peace of mind that my girl parts were running normally and, it turns out, my new gyno is really cool. She's Asian and looks like she's in her early 30's (though she's probably older), really smart, upbeat and friendly, and put me at ease so much that I spoke freely about my sex life and didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable when she was prodding my girly bits. Apart from that, she also has the same music taste I do, which makes me trust her all the more.
Anyway, I told her about my horrible experience with the Pill. She said there are birth control pills with lower doses of estrogen available, and mentioned the mini-pill which is progesterone only, but warned that I might still experience certain side effects like depression. Considering how tenuous my moods can be on a day to day basis, and how I now even have to pay for a night of hard drinking with a consecutive day of anxiety and depression, I don't think putting more hormones into my body is a good idea.
I mentioned the option of getting an IUD (Intra Uterine Device). This is something that's recommended more for women who have already given birth, since it requires dilating the cervix. Also, there's a risk of developing Pelvic Inflammatory Disease and a small chance it could even cause sterility. Since I am fairly sure I want to have kids some day, I'm not going to gamble with my fertility like that.
My doctor also gave me some information on the diaphragm. It's funny, but there's something kind of old fashioned about diaphragms to me. I don't know any women who use them and it seems to be a less popular method of birth control. Maybe it has something to do with the ick factor. I mean, it's bad enough we have to deal with tampons, but the prospect of inserting something that looks like a miniature UFO every time you want to get funky is not very appealing. Also, condoms have become so ubiquitous nowadays that they have easily become incorporated into the ritual of having sex, but diaphragms? Not so much ("Ooh baby, you are really turning me on. Where's your... diaphragm?" Ugh, the word alone invokes instant unhorniness). Also, if a woman's weight fluctuates by more than ten pounds (and mine certainly does), she needs to be fitted for a new one. And did I mention it has to be kept in for six hours after intercourse? Too much muss, too much fuss.
So it looks like I am sticking with condoms. Which is fine; they don't really bother me, and they don't bother BF David, either. Plus, I am about to get some very special condoms...