But there was a redeeming moment of my stay in the padded mauve chair. Like a single white hair sparing a black cat during the days of the witch hunts (where pure black cats were burned alive), my visit found redemption in a sign that read, "Non surgical sterilization- Essure." Non surgical? As in no needles AND no babies? Whaaaaa?
When I got home I went to the Essure webpage to see if it could really be all I hoped.
Hallelujah."Essure procedure does not require cutting into the body or the use of radiofrequency energy to burn the fallopian tubes. Instead, an Essure trained doctor inserts soft, flexible inserts through the body’s natural pathways (vagina, cervix, and uterus) and into your fallopian tubes. This gentle procedure can be performed in a doctor's office in less than 10 minutes."
As I've mentioned before, my disinterest and disgust in child bearing has been common knowledge in my family since I was about 3 years old. I almost had my tubes tied when I was 18, but right when I was going to apply a friend of mine had complications with her surgery and I got scared. I decided then that if I ever ended up with anyone long term, they would get sterilized since I couldn't (vasectomies are much less invasive surgeries than tubal ligations.) And why the hell was birth control left up to females anyway? We don't make pregnancies happen on our own. Yep, any boy I ended up with would get snipped. A-C-C-O-U-N-T-ibility. Hell yeah. (I was a budding feminist...)
I never dated anyone sterile. And I stopped resenting that it was left up to me. In fact the more I thought about getting sterilized, the better I felt about it. It was a fuzzy, all over sort of happy that I couldn't really pin down, until I called my Dad to tell him the good news.
"Dad! I just heard about a new non-surgical sterilization for women! I really hope it's something that would work for me. I want to rid myself of this burden."
That was it. The ability to host a baby in my innards was a burden. I never asked to be able to give life. Had I been given the choice I wouldn't have taken it. This "ability" makes me feel at odds with my own body. Like I have something that's a part of me that was meant for someone else. It's foreign and icky.
What I want isn't just to not have children because I'm using condoms or the pill or sleeping with someone who shoots blanks, but because I can't have children. Because I'm not made for it. Because that ain't me. I'm not breeder. It's more than just prevention, it's about my identity.
Even though my desire to be barren is old news, I wasn't sure how my Dad would take hearing it was becoming a possibility. This side of the family dies with me, maybe he secretly wanted a grand kid to carry on our name. In the pause before he responded to my "I was born into the wrong body" speech I was filled with doubt and guilt. Ending the family line. Being a girl that doesn't want to have a baby. Tisk tisk tisk, what kind of daughter are you?
But my Dad understands me totally and supports me fully.
"Well Dav that sounds perfect for you!"
It does. Well, it did anyway. Further research on Essure unearthed too many horror stories for my liking. So I'm back where I started. Fertile. And I have another appointment at Planned Parenthood coming up, which will now be even more agonizing. Not only must I deal with the abject gyno patients in that humid, florescent-lit cell, but also the Essure sign, tantalizing me with promises of freedom.