Urgent Care (or the Tale of the Missing Condom)

Even though I was at BlogHer this year and attended several seminars and sat in on a few panels, I was not present for the reading of Knotty Yarn's Stuck in the Middle with You. Danielle read the entire blog post during her keynote speech and I am kind of glad I wasn't there cause I would've probably pissed myself from laughing so hard and then I'd end up telling everyone around me about the time that I had to go to Urgent Care for a similar situation (you know, to distract them from the fact that I had wet myself).

Oh hell, it's an awesome story and one that I can't believe has not been shared yet. So here goes:

It was the first time I had sex with this particular individual and it had been a long time for me (dry spell). I was incredibly turned on and it was completely-spontaneous-in-the-middle-of-the-afternoon type sex and everything was going well - until it was over.

After sex, I typically lay there in the afterglow and enjoy the sensation of being naked and not having a care in the world (as opposed to being naked in front of the mirror) but this time, that moment of calm was interrupted by what he said.

"I think the condom slipped off." He said it so casually that it took me a second to register what he was trying to say. Once I did, I could hardly relax. My first thought went to what day of the month it was, quickly followed by: Was I ovulating? Was the pill 99% effective with or without a condom? I couldn't remember and I was panicking and not even thinking about the sex anymore or how good it wasn't. All I could think about was, Could I be pregnant already?

As I stood up and looked at him (standing in front of me, naked, and with an odd expression on his face), I realized that he was more freaked out than I was. I started to get dressed and was thinking about the Morning After Pill and what I would have to do in order to get a hold of one, when I noticed that he was tearing the sheets off the bed. And that's when I realized that what he really meant to say was, "The condom is missing."

We both started to look under the bed and tossed aside the clothes that lay on the floor around us. "Where is it?" I said. "It's gotta be around here somewhere," he responded.

It was nowhere to be found. The only logical place it could possibly be was inside. Me.

I went to the bathroom to try and fish it out (seriously, Danielle, I feel your pain here). By the time I finally gave up on the search, my female bits were sore and I was seriously not in the mood to even face my new partner.

I was pissed. In fact, my partner would say (if we were still speaking), that he wanted to leave at that moment because I was acting like such a bitch. I was embarrassed, annoyed and freaked out (still thinking about the possibility of conception).

We went to bed that night with our backs to each other. I was not going to let him touch me again. After all, imagine what else could happen down there? I was seriously behaving like a child, blaming him for 'losing' the condom instead of laughing about such a crazy situation (which I laughed about the next day).

I went to Urgent Care the next morning although I made sure to call ahead. See, I've been there before and I know about that little window in the tiny waiting room that you're required to speak through when you check in. The receptionist asks you what you're there for and I was prepared to not have to explain it to her and the handful of strangers sitting there.

Over the phone, I told her why I was coming in. "I had sex last night and the condom disappeared. I think it's stuck inside me." I made sure to explain that I would not be able to say that out loud when I got there. I think she was laughing at me when she hung up the phone.

When I arrived, the woman behind the desk asked me what I was there for (I swear, she should've recognized my embarrassment), so I said, "I'm the one who just called. About the situation. You know. That I can't say." She nodded (fighting back a laugh) and said, "A nurse practitioner will be with you shortly." I sat down and everyone in the waiting room stared, wondering what I was there for and why it was too scary to say out loud and should they be sitting so close to me?

Apparently, getting a condom (or anything else) stuck inside you is sort of a big deal, cause I was called back pretty much right away and as I stood up, everyone in the room looked up at me, either thinking that they were glad they didn't have what I had or jealous because they still had to wait for their emergency care.

Once I was with the practitioner, I was much less concerned about an unplanned pregnancy and was sort of intrigued when she started telling me about "other" things that "people'' have gotten stuck inside them (notice how she didn't say 'women' or 'vagina'). My imagination was on overdrive as she removed the condom and provided it to me as evidence (I asked to see it) so I could relax and return to my regular scheduled program.

Tattooed Moms

I got my first tattoo when I was in high school. My best friend pulled out some Indian ink and a safety pin to permanently mark me up as I lay on the bathroom floor at her mother's house. It's hidden below my bikini line so not many people get a chance to see it.

Years - and several more tattoos - later, she's still my best friend (she's getting married in a few weeks) but the tattoo I'm most proud of is the one that lies on my chest. LaSara Firefox has a tattoo on hers as well and when I mentioned this coincidence, she asked about mine.

LaSara's tattoo

People comment or ask me about this particular tattoo all the time (when it's not covered up by clothing) and I enjoy sharing the story behind it.

Permanent reminders are often painful and this one is no exception. While the process of getting the tattoo was not painful, it does bring up a past experience that was and has brought me to the place I am today.

I found out that I was pregnant (unexpectedly) during my Senior year of college. I was dating a guy one year younger than me and I was working part-time and attending school full-time to try and finish my college career in exactly four years.

While the news of my pregnancy was not something that I was truly ready to embrace, I decided, after several sleepless nights and many emotionally-charged debates with my then-boyfriend, to keep the baby. As pro-choice as I am and have always been, not having the baby was never the choice for me.

I grew fond of the idea of being a mother very quickly, almost instantly. In a matter of weeks, I was a proud, pregnant woman who was ready to graduate from college and embark on the amazing journey of motherhood. My boyfriend would be joining me on the adventure.

Family, friends, classmates, and professors were made aware of the pregnancy and of my plans to get my degree and raise my child with the father. I was ecstatic and ready and yet so unprepared for what was to come.

I experienced a miscarriage in the third month which is not unusual at all. Everyone knows that the first twelve weeks are the most critical and my announcement very early on in the pregnancy only led to greater heartache when it was time to share my loss with everyone who was still getting around to congratulate us.

Without realizing it at the time, that was the beginning of a great state of depression for me. I ended up running away - or at least trying to - by moving across the country to San Diego (after dropping out of school).

I started my life over in a new place where no one knew me or my story but I still longed for a way to keep the memory of this experience with me as a reminder of the change and evolution that pregnancy brought about within me.

My then-boyfriend and I had been creating a tattoo together in honor of our unborn child. With the design in hand, I marched into a tattoo parlor on the date she would've been due (October 18, 1999) and sat down to have the symbol permanently placed on my chest, the place where my hand always went whenever I talked about the pregnancy and miscarriage, or thought about my unborn child.

I think about how old she would be now. I think about what type of relationship I would have with her. I wonder if she knows how much she means to me.

She is very real to me and when I see other nine-year-old girls, I struggle to picture a face that I will never be able to see.

My life started over that day, the day I had the symbolic tattoo placed next to my heart. I began a new life then, a fresh start on the adventure that has led me here: I'm Mom to a nearly five-year-old boy. I have a wonderful career, great friends and enjoy single life in San Diego and I truly believe that everything happens for a reason.

I've always loved the quote that states, "That which does not kill us only makes us stronger," and I know that I am a much better parent for having grown and evolved from the person I was before that first pregnancy.

Living without regrets is my ultimate goal in this life. Every moment moves us forward on this great journey that has been mapped out for us.

My son and I, 2004

I am still friends with the father of my unborn child. We share pictures of our children and exchange stories and I know from the sparkle in his eye when he talks about his role as a father and husband, that our daughter was put in our life for a reason. She has taught us to let go, enabled us to evolve and inspire us to love without expecting anything in return.

And yes, when you see me talk about my tattoo, you will see that same sparkle in my eye and perhaps a tear or two that fall, not in mourning for a child who will never age, but for the hope that she will never be forgotten.

Pro-Obama

Dear Word Warrior,

I'm a bit concerned about your concern for this plan. The last sentence of this plan, which you included in your post, clearly states that this would be a "voluntary universal pre-school," so, since you are not in agreement with having your child placed in this type of program, you would not be obligated to do so.

My son has been in full-time educational programs since he was 18 months old. He's now 4 1/2 and is a smart, polite and thoughtful little boy. He spent the first year and a half of his life with either his father or I, and I was lucky enough to be able to bring him with me to work every day (since I was breastfeeding) until he was 7 months old.

For many parents who don't have the option to stay home with their children, this "voluntary universal pre-school" is a great program and I fully stand behind Obama (for this and many other reasons).

I am also Pro-Choice and donate money on a regular basis to both NARAL and Planned Parenthood. I believe these organizations are doing many great thing for men and women of all ages. And, just to be clear, I am a Mom. I have never had an abortion nor would I ever have one. I do believe, however, that each one of us should have the power to make that decision for ourselves. Who am I (or anyone else) to judge another's actions?

I appreciate the fact that there are programs in place that Obama has outlined that are meant to help prevent unplanned pregnancies from occurring in the first place:

Barack Obama is an original co-sponsor of legislation to expand access to contraception, health information and preventive services to help reduce unintended pregnancies. The Prevention First Act will increase funding for family planning and comprehensive sex education that teaches both abstinence and safe sex methods. The Act will also end insurance discrimination against contraception, improve awareness about emergency contraception, and provide compassionate assistance to rape victims.

I hadn't planned on using my blog to discuss politics or share my personal views on the upcoming elections, but I feel quite compelled to speak up against those who, instead of defending their beliefs and justifying the reasons for voting for whoever it is they plan on voting for, they are instead, spending their time badmouthing those who they don't agree with.

We have the power, in this country, to vote for who we believe would make the best President. Of course, no one's perfect and it's rather unlikely that we will agree 100% with each and every opinion, thought, action or philosophy of those who are on the ballot.

What really gets under my skin is that you would use manipulation and try to get to people, emotionally, with the graphic nature of the video posted on your blog. I wouldn't dare link to it, or suggest that anyone view it, no matter what side they take on abortion and the types of abortion procedures that take place in our world.

I would be very interested to know what you suggest or what your *ideal* President believes about babies born to parents who didn't intentionally conceive them. We all make mistakes and bad decisions. Many of us have experienced the consequences of the choices that we make and learn from these mistakes, or from others'.

What do you think would be the best option for these unwanted babies (approximately 1.3 million abortions are performed each year in the U.S.)?

Obama may not have all of the answers, but I truly believe that his dedication to the people and our rights is of great value to our country.

I'll see you at the polls.

Sincerely,

Hip_M0M

Better Than Sex (In the City)

A 25 year old male Daily Bedpost reader wants to know what there is in NYC to keep him busy (and sex-free) for 100 days. Poor guy. Why, oh why, would anyone do such a thing? I've heard about the couple who vowed to have sex every day for 100 days, but no sex at all? I'm curious about his guidelines to his experiment.

Speaking of sex, over at What Men Think (one of my favorite blogs), casual sex is the topic discussed today.

Casual sex can lead to unplanned pregnancies, which is the case for the woman who wrote Accidentally on Purpose: A One-Night Stand, My Unplanned Parenthood, and Loving the Best Mistake I Ever Made. I'll be reviewing this memoir by Mary F. Pols in the next few weeks.

Apparently, single moms are on the rise and many suggest that this is due to the high divorce rates and women choosing to have children on their own.

I couldn't let a day go by without a top ten list, or on line quiz so here's both: Top Ten Signs You're a Working Mom followed by What Hand Gesture Are You? And if you're not convinced that your only child will remain an only child, check out this post on Dating an Only Child.

From Wild to Child

It takes six pregnancy tests for Rebecca Woolf to admit to herself that she is definitely pregnant. Hiding under the bathroom sink, smoking a cigarette and cursing herself, she informs her roommate, and then her boyfriend of four months, of the news.

After several months - and a wedding in Vegas - she convinces herself that life will not change when she becomes a mother. Fortunately, she discovers the truth: that life is best enjoyed when embracing the unexpected, that parenthood can change a person in ways that can never be undone, and that true love is only truly understood when one holds a newborn baby in their arms.

Rockabye: From Wild to Child is Rebecca Woolf's account of motherhood and how becoming a wife and parent changed her life, inspired her to accept herself - and her imperfections - as well as enabling her to be the best parent she never knew she could become.

With brutal honesty and the rawest of emotions, Rebecca beautifully and succinctly documents the adjustment to - and evolution of - motherhood and illustrates the fact that parenthood is messy, painful, scary, overwhelming and as precious as it is priceless.

"It's amazing how fast he stops crying when I pick him up. It is still hard to believe his cries are for me. Because he needs me. A feeling both wonderful and completely terrifying."

"...a child is not a sacrifice...unfaithfulness to one's desire is a choice, with or without children or a full-time job to make ends meet...The only way we can properly take care of our children is by taking care of ourselves first."

"The lessons we teach our children we should also remember to tell ourselves.
'Follow your dreams.'
'Be yourself.'
'Listen to your heart.'
'I believe in you.' "

"Happiness is the most underrated accessory to success. It is paramount to be inspired by life in order to be an inspiration to a child."

"...maybe it's just as important to cross the lines as it is to draw them."

Rebecca Woolf is a young mother and a mother who is young at heart, not to mention wise beyond her years. An inspirational and a humorous book for new parents, expecting divas and mature moms, Rockabye: From Wild to Child is a must-read for anyone learning to negotiate the limitless and life-changing experience that is parenthood.