Babies and birth control should have been the least of my worries...

As most of you noticed I posted a photo today of a missed birth control pill. And I’m sure every girl on the pill can vouch for the fact how easy it is to miss one pill. The comments and humor surrounding this photo brought up a memory of my ex. I’ve thought about it all day and how to tell this story. Where to begin and how to make sure you get the point I’m actually trying to make with it. I do not want the focus to be on the fight as much as the moral that at the time I was too blind to see (birth control was NOT my problem).

I had been with Mr. Comfort (at the time) for five years. We had settled into a very boring life. If you would have asked me then I would have told you I was completely happy. I would have told you that I was exactly where I was meant to be and he was exactly what I wanted. I would have done anything for him, and most times did. Defending his poor work skills, lack of motivation and ambition, ignoring his lack of hygiene and over looking his late nights with the boys and his obsession over W.O.W. or whatever it was that they did in the garage of his best friend’s mother. I would have told you that buying his clothes, food and whatever new “toy” was on the market was alright with me because love had no value, it was just money and I wanted him to be happy. I would have told you I loved him, that he was good to me and that I was loved in return. I would have naively told you he felt the exact same way about me.

I had been on the pill for probably four of those years and I had started having medical complications. I had gone to the OBGYN and together we discussed multiple options. For a time we switched my pills trying new ones with different levels of estrogen, then as a final result she suggested I completely stop taking birth control until we figured out what the problem was. I had hope that maybe I had been on the pill for too long and a break would obviously do my body some good.

I had kept Mr. Comfort up to date on each of these visits. I didn’t hide it from him, I never once pretended things weren’t being changed around or increased or decreased and so when my doctor suggested I stop taking the pill I also told him that.

I sat in the bedroom telling him I was going to be taking a break from the pill so we would need to use other protection as we had before I was put on the pill. He nodded in agreement. I explained my that my doctor thinks my body might just need a break from it and that I could go back on it again in a few months but for the time being  we would have to be "careful". He nodded in agreement. At first he and I were both against me being put on the pill for multiple reasons. One very important one is that it can reduce a woman’s sex drive,but once I realized I was only going to have three day periods there was no changing my mind.

My sex drive had decreased but so had his interest in me. We weren’t rabid sex craved teenagers anymore, when each moment alone was a chance to have sex. Being on birth control meant he had to try a little harder to get my engine ready and at times he was willing to do so, other times not so much. Together we had let our sexual relationship be put on the back burner to our comfortable it happens when it happens, it is what it is and this is our live routine. Healthy??? Not by a long shot but like I said “we” loved each other.

After being off the pill for a week or so my sex drive came roaring back into play. No longer could I sit near him alone without it constantly playing in my head. Each time I went to bed it was solely for the purpose of having sex. I wanted it more at that time than I had when we first began our sexual relationship. He didn't complain and I kept him busy...

 Towards the end of a very passionate romp in the sheets, he came inside me. Immediately my mind went into panic, OMG I'm going to get pregnant!!!!!!!!!!! However, in order to NOT freak him out I said nothing.  That night I lay awake for a while scared. I was not ready to be a mother, he was not ready to be a father. I would have to tell him that we could not do that anymore. We were too young to have a baby. And by too young I mean 23. I was not going to be one of "those" women who had "accident" children.

The next day we went to Bob Evans for lunch (freaking Bob Evans!!!!!! ) and I sat smiling and laughing with him completely content, with just him and I, not wanting to add a mini either one of us to the equation I decided to bring up that we definitely need to be more careful in the bedroom.

“You know last night was awesome. But we have to remember I’m not on my birth control and…”

*What the fuck? (He yelled in freaking Bob Evans)

“You know I haven’t been taking my pill, I told you that…”

*Well fuck, we might as well name the fucking kid now... Jesus, fuck me. A fucking kid?

“Seriously? I told you about this! You knew from day one, don’t act like this is my fault!”

*You scandalous bitch, you’re trying to trap me! If you get fucking pregnant I'm stuck!

Trap him? Scandalous? We have been dating for five years if I wanted to “trap” him I would have done it sooner.

Mean while all the older couples enjoying their Sunday lunches and their families have started to look us as if we were white trash. He continued to draw attention to us pointing the blame all on me.

“How dare you speak to me that way, I’m the one here telling you we need to be more responsible and you’re attacking me? It’s obvious you don’t listen to a single word I say. Or you WOULD have remembered!”

*You let me do it. You could have stopped me. This is your fault. I’m going to be fucking stuck with you and some bastard kid I don’t want forever. There goes my fucking life. Are you fucking happy?

With that I got up. I walked away, I was embarrassed, hurt and completely stunned by his behavior. I apologized to the elderly couple sitting closest to us and asked if I could pay for their meal.

*You better save your fucking money for that kid of yours…

They declined realizing I had more problems than the looks I was getting from the entire Bob Evans Sunday crowd. I left the building I walked to my car. He came out after me. The entire way home I refused to speak. For a while he too was silent then he tried to smooth things over. I was beyond words; no amount of apologizing could make up for the hurtful words he had just said. I looked dead ahead at the road, replaying the entire Bob Evans outburst in my head.

“Scandalous bitch, bastard child, all my fault… Scandalous bitch, bastard child, all my fault” like a record repeating in my head.

*You know I was just shocked and didn’t mean all of that. I just hope you’re not pregnant. Fuck. Um, I’m sorry, my temper got away with me and…

His mother pulled up into the drive way where I was trying to get him to leave my car. I still had not spoken a single word to him. I sat there disgusted by this person I “loved” who supposedly “loved” me, angry tears began to form in my eyes as his mother approached the car going on about some party or some family event she wanted us to attend, I couldn’t look at her and I refused to look at him. I couldn’t sit there without completely melting down and screaming at her son for what horrible things he had said to me and about me. She stopped in the middle of her rant:

“Single girl… are you okay? Mr. Comfort is she crying what’s going on… what happened…

*She’s fine mom just leave her alone. I’ll talk to you later alright…. Alright? I’ll call you. I’ll see you tomorrow ok… ok…

I didn’t answer. I would not answer.

 He finally got out of my car and as he walked away I could hear his mother asking him a million questions. Questions I knew he wouldn’t answer. Things I knew he would never tell her and probably never speak of again, even to me. These were things I would never forget…

And yet I stayed with him, until he cheated on me and broke up with me six months later.