By Sam Palmer of Modern Day Hippie Mama

Dear guy,

I’m done having babies. Like, so done. I’m done having babies to the point that when I see a baby, my ovaries scream at me in such a way to remind me that I’ve had babies and I DON’T WANT ANY MORE BABIES. I’ve also gotten rid of all my maternity clothes, so unless we’re going to buy hundreds of dollars worth of boutique maternity clothing (not that I ever had boutique maternity clothing, but I would definitely want it if we got pregnant again), we aren’t having any more babies.

You don’t want to get a vasectomy. Fair enough. I know it’s intimidating wrapping your head (sorry, didn’t mean for that insensitive pun there) around a simple, relatively painless, 15 minute procedure. I’m sure I can be empathetic CONSIDERING I PUSHED OUR BABIES OUT OF MY VAGINA after a 10 million hour labor. But…your body, your choice. I dig it.

I don’t want more babies. You don’t want to lose your ability to have more babies in case I finally actually leave you. Fair.

So, what do we do to appease both of us?

We have a few options. I’m not a fan of most of them, except for one:

Condoms.

They might be a nice idea, but your whining about the use of condoms often takes the pleasure out of sex (although maybe your whining could cover up my vagina fart). I agree, they’re really not a whole lot of fun unless they’re used as balloons…balloons we maybe shouldn’t use at the kids’ birthday parties.

Hormonal birth control.

“GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!! Oh, I’m so sorry I yelled at you *wipes tear*. Ha. Haha. Hahahahahahaha.” You like that? That will be your life if I have to remember to take a tiny little hormone-altering pill at the same time every day. Also, I forgot to pick up our kids from school the other day; do you really want this whole birth control thing to be on me?

IUD.

It’s probably the best of all the options, but it’s still not awesome. You see, there’s a foreign object inserted into my body for an extended period of time. Considering I’ve spent a considerable portion of my life already with foreign objects in my body (babies), I think I wouldn’t mind taking a break.

Tubal ligation.

Speaking of simple, relatively painless 15 minute procedures, let’s hop right on over to the other end of the spectrum.

Abstinence.

I’m 150% game for this. Wanna know why? My Battery Operated Boyfriend (BOB).

BOB, BOB, you’re not a man,

You won’t get me pregnant like a real penis can.

You give off great vibes and you don’t want to cuddle.

I use you when I want to; no need to be subtle.

I think we have a winner! I’ll enjoy a healthy relationship with BOB while you go fuck yourself!

Lots of love!

This post was originally published on Modern Day Hippie Mama. 

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About the Author

Sam Palmer has a passion for organic wine, profanities, and being a Mom. She has 4 beautiful daughters, a dog, and that guy she lives with. They live on the West Coast of British Columbia amongst other Birkenstock wearing, home brew guzzling folk. Check out her blog at www.moderndayhippie.ca and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.