The Birth Control Debate

My husband and I were in our weekly marriage counseling appointment on Monday when the issue of birth control came up. Not for the first time.

"I just don't think it's fair that I'm the one who always has to deal with all issues down there" I explain, looking down to the zipper of my jeans. I've had 4 babies, 2 miscarriages, and years of monthly menstrual anguish. I've been on the pill, tried the IUD. I'm sick of being the one to deal with all matters reproductive. I've done my part in that show. Besides, vasectomies are easy. All of my friends' husbands are getting them. They aren't a big deal."

My husband disagrees. Men have this thing about their penises. Just mention penis and cut in the same sentence, and they crouch over and grab their crotch as if they can actually feel the pain.

"You're the one who doesn't want to have any more kids," he says. "So you should be the one to get fixed."

"You're the one who wants to have sex all the time," I reply, "So maybe you should be the one to get fixed."

The scary truth is that my husband would happily have another baby, making the grand total 5 kids. Let me say that again. 5 kids. Who in their right mind has 5 kids these days?

As a mom of 4, I’ve reached the point of knowing - without a doubt - that my days of longing for another child are over. I’ve done my part in continuing the family lineage, times four. I’ve hit the proverbial wall - with a thud.

I’m tired. All the time. I don't need to explain why.

So the issue of birth control in our household lingers, to be brought up again in marriage counseling next week.