I don't know about you, but I spent most of my post-pubescent life avoiding pregnancy like, well, pregnancy. I was a bit of a "late bloomer" to the "P in the V" game but once I got there at the tender age of almost 20, I was always super safe.
I stocked up on condoms like a doomsday prepper. I jumped on the birth control train. I was absolutely terrified of pregnancy and STDs -- and, to be honest, men. I was there the moment the pharmacy opened on those few occasions the condom broke to get Plan B, harassing the pharmacist with questions about the percentage of still getting pregnant after using it. I was the girl often telling her "freer" friends: "Remember, if he doesn’t care about using a condom with you, he doesn’t care about using a condom with every girl he sticks his dirty dick into."
Pregnancy was like a scary mystery to me
But, I mean, most of my girlfriends were avoiding pregnancy too. Condoms, birth control, pull out, rhythm method, Plan B, moon cycle, whatever it was, they were likely using something. And I stupidly assumed, incorrectly, for way too long, that you could get pregnant any time of the month. I just don't remember that lesson in health class about a woman's ovulation calendar (or, let's be honest, I probably wasn’t listening). The only things I remember were about getting your period, AIDS, and what tampons were (insert teen boys' stifling laughter).
So now here I was, married in my 30s and getting into the "baby game," when I find out, wait, you can only get pregnant a few days out of the month? Well ain't that some shit. My husband is a few years older than me and I have a Jewish Jersey mother who's been passively guilting me for grandchildren since the moment we said "I do," so the time felt as right as it would ever be. I guess. Fuck, I'm still not sure. Some days I'm like baby crazy and gimme gimme a tiny little combination of my husband and me; and then other days I still want to go see DJs I'm clearly too old for, stay up all night on E, and sleep in and have my biggest dilemma be where we're going for brunch the next morning.
It took 33 years to learn about my body
Suddenly, I was learning all about my body for the first time. I was trying hard to do everything that instinctually my brain and body tried for so long NOT to do. And that's when I learned it might not even be that easy. Man, all these teen moms must be fucking like teen rabbits. I mean, sure it can happen if you have sex once. But damn the sheer luck! Do you even know what cervical mucus is? I didn't! It's like your body's way of saying (in a British accent in my mind at least): "Pardon me, you're ovulating and ready for Sir Penis if you choose."
Cervical mucus (charming, adorable name) looks like egg whites in your undies. Just thought I'd cram in a little health lesson for you. And also they have these ovulation kits now where you pee on a stick and it tells you the days you're most fertile. Fuck yeah technology. How did our parents even procreate before technology and the internet? I mean, my parents only had sex twice for my brother and I so they must have been pretty fucking magical.
Oh, and did you know you're actually pregnant 10 MONTHS?! Yeah, we've all been lied to. I mean, I always remembered hearing 40 weeks but just assumed it meant nine months, but noooooo. It's the full ninth month so you hit nine months and you still have four more fucking weeks to go! Those dirty little liars.