It really doesn’t even belong in my vocabulary.

I decided long ago that birth control was the devil and screwed my body up. No doctor has ever given me reason to think this but I do. I haven’t been on birth control now for five years. (Wow as a side note, I never stopped to realize I haven’t taken birth control for five years, that is a long time!) I stopped taking it a year before I got married, the year I found out I had PCOS. Taking birth control after learning I had PCOS seemed pointless to me so I just stopped taking it.

But, since I did somehow manage by the grace of God to get knocked up without the use of fertility drugs, I better do something to prevent a possible second pregnancy right away.

With that being said I resigned myself to the fact that *gasp*condoms would need to be used. Gross. I’ve never been a big fan of condoms and after talking it over with a girlfriend she agreed that she also hated them, which oddly enough made me feel a lot better. So I drug myself to the drug store, baby in tow, and headed towards the condom aisle. For a second I felt like a high school-er sneaking off to buy condoms. I probably stood there a good fifteen minutes staring at all the different varieties. It was a tad overwhelming. I finally made my selection and sat the evil condoms in the cart, next to Hannah. I laughed at the irony of that situation, me with a baby and who’d have thunk I now have to use condoms (you know, just in case. HA!).

I guess it is better to be safe than sorry, I am all for having more kids but I would just like to wait until Hannah is bigger, like two years old bigger. Maybe God will bless us with more children, maybe He won’t. But I don’t want to be that person, you know the one that gets pregnant as soon as she has her baby. That my friends would be so not cool!