By Kim Buettner-Garrett
I’ve never been a fan of most conventional birth control methods. Even before my skepticism of pharmaceuticals and mainstream gynecology had developed, the idea of taking hormones to prevent pregnancy really made me uneasy. And the mere thought of inserting a hunk of metal into my uterus to create a “hostile” environment for a fertilized egg (leading to possibly heavier and more painful periods) also made my stomach turn — I don’t want to make any part of my body “hostile”, thank you very much. In college, I worked for a project about the history of embryology and wrote numerous articles on the development of the pill. I knew its ins and outs, and my discomfort continued to grow. Basically, my inner feminist was angry that the most common forms of birth control available to women (namely hormones and IUDs) had the potential to harm my body, whereas the most common form of birth control for men (condoms) had little potential for harm, less a potential latex allergy. *Insert rant about medical patriarchy here*.
I’ve been with my now-husband since our teens, and we have “learned” a lot of things together. For us, condoms and creativity allowed for the avoidance of hormones. Wanting a little more freedom and a little less rubber, I went on a knowledge trek to see what other hormone-fearing women were doing. Many were satisfied with their copper Ts but, being the controlling gal that I am, I wasn’t comfortable leaving my fertility up to a metal implant. I began to get frustrated at my contraceptive choices:
- Pills, rings, or patches that could cause blood clots, weight gain, loss of libido, and a slew of other conditions caused by messing with normal hormone cycling
- An implant (either with or without hormones) that tends to cause heavier, more painful periods, or could potentially get infected or perforate my uterus
- Diaphragms, cervical caps, or female condoms with a big ol’ dollop of spermicide—no thanks!
- Abstinence—ha!
Or our current routine, which we were wanting to mix up.
*Sigh* There HAD to be a better way!
Enter Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler. Now this sounded like something I could get on board with — taking charge is what I do. I stumbled upon this book, ordered it online, and read it cover to cover with intensity. I brought it to work with me and enlightened my coworkers about cervical fluid, hormone patterns, and botched infertility treatments (you’ll thank me someday, ladies!) I was excited, intrigued, and angry — how did I not understand my own body? Somewhere along the line, from early health, science, and sex education to my bachelor’s in Biology, my education failed me. Somewhere along the line, I failed to question conventional knowledge about fertility.
A sampling of the information gems I found in this treasure trove of insight:
- Contrary to popular belief, women cannot get pregnant any time of the month (sounds ridiculous, but as I young woman, I didn’t freaking know this and none of my well-educated lady friends did either). The basis of the Fertility Awareness Method (NOT to be confused with the very flawed Rhythm Method) is daily temperature and cervical fluid charting to reveal periods of low and high fertility. You can use this information to both achieve (given no other fertility issues) and avoid pregnancy. Brilliant.
- There is this thing called cervical fluid that all women have and it changes throughout the month. Many women think it’s an infection because we’ve never been told that it’s normal (particularly when women are fertile and the fluid is abundant). So do their docs, who prescribe them antibiotics month after month to rid them of said ‘discharge’. Yes, that’s right — DOCTORS prescribe MEDICINE to get rid of NORMAL body fluid. Fluid that is essential for the continuation of our species because sperm would die without it. But heaven forbid we acknowledge that women’s bodies make something that a “male” entity is dependent on.
- Many couples with fertility problems spend tens of thousands of dollars on treatments that will never work because their doctor assumes they ovulate on day 14 of their cycle, and thus the treatments fail because they apply it too early or too late if a woman’s body doesn’t conform to this average ovulation timing.
- The combined mistakes of assuming day 14 ovulation, poor ultrasound fetal measurements, and doctors not trusting women regarding conception dates result in some women being induced when they were “overdue” only to birth tiny babies that were actually premature and aged incorrectly. This “mistake” has a name — iatrogenic, or medically-caused.
I believe this book is essential reading for all women. Even if you are satisfied with your current form of contraception or find charting to be a daunting task, you can learn so, so much from TCOYF. I now have a greater understanding and appreciation for the way my body works, and the reassurance that everything is working just as intended — no antibiotics necessary.
About the Author…
Kim Buettner-Garrett is a first year MPH student with a focus on Health Communication. She is a woman of many passions, including women’s health, nutrition, animal behavior, and healthy living.
After graduate school, she plans to get certified as a doula, serve as a women’s health educator, and add some little B-Gs to the household.
I was a huge proponent of fertility charting- until I had an unplanned pregnancy! I was nine months postpartum, breastfeeding, and certainly not wanting to be on any kind of hormonal contraception- so ovulation thermometer, here we go. Temp spiked on day 12 (whoo me!), and continued on as expected. Except for the lack of menstruation....early ultrasound was able to date conception to about day 27 of my cycle, when I had unprotected sex because I was supposed to be in the clear. Instead, I had a second ovulation (just glad now it didn't result in twins).
On the plus side, being aware of my fertility made me not worry when the doc couldn't find a heartrate when the fetus was supposed to be 13 weeks- because I knew it couldn't possibly be that old. On the downside, unexpected pregnancies kind of suck. I was really upset at losing my breastfeeding relationship with my firstborn, reentering the land of vomit, and losing any chance I had at finishing my graduate work. In the end, of course, I'm extremely happy about the child I ended up having. I do wish I could have planned his arrival better, though.
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