I quit my birthcontrol yesterday.
NO, I am NOT trying to get pregnant again. Not yet anyway.
I guess a bit of back story is in order.
I had Cara in November of 2006. [That sounds like so long ago!]
The “baby weight” came off almost immediately and after a couple of months, the ole body was able to fit into “normal” clothes again.
Around June, I started taking birthcontrol. [the Minipill]
After about a month of being on “the pill”, I noticed that I was gaining wight. Granted, it wasn’t five pounds a week or anything, but any gain is too much in my book.
Then, I started having heinous headaches and my mood swings were much more pronounced.
So, last night I told Tucker that I was quitting them.
The look that he gave me prompted a quick “Not so I can get pregnant!”
I told him everything that I just told you and I could actually see his “threat level” go down.
No more stressing over finding my purple pill pack. [I swear the thing had legs cause it was never where I had left it]
No more worrying about if I had taken my pill or not. Nice, huh?
An odd thing happened though.
This morning, as I was tossing the pack into the garbage can, I had a moment of panic.
Since Caroline was six weeks old, I have wanted another baby. Even with Cara’s “high needs” and marathon breastfeeding, I just couldn’t think of anything that I wanted more. But, with Tucker getting out of the Navy in a couple of months and then going back to school, having another baby right now just isn’t in the cards.
Maybe part of my panic was the realization that I’m no longer actually doing anything to not get pregnant. I’m not taking a pill every morning…I have to admit that the loss of total control is a bit disconcerting.
I guess Tucker is the new “gate keeper”.