Sunday, September 2, 2007

Lesser of Two Evils

I've been married for a little over a month. Rick and I didn't have sex before marriage. But oh did we want to - stopping my sex drive was like trying to stop Niagra Falls. Rick, being a completely-normal-previously-unsexed-male (i.e. 13 years of pent-up horniness), his drive was 10 times worse than that. So in the past 32 days, when I can finally strip the clothes of my man and make up for lost time, have I wanted to? No. Not at all. Well . . . maybe once or twice. I first blamed it on the pain. Sex, the first dozen times, was an exercise in how much agony I could tolerate. Really, I mean, tolerate. I had to act like it wasn't there - otherwise Rick felt like it was "sanctioned rape." So for his sake, I mustered up all the pain tolerance I had (which is a considerable amount - so you can imagine how bad it was to break through my defenses). Therefore, I deduced that my lack of sex drive came from my body knowing that more pain was inevitable. A few nights I declined. Most nights I gave in (why punish my husband?). That didn't end up so well - this past Thursday, I realized at that crucial point when one can't curl up in a fetal position and protect herself - that I didn't want him on top of me, in me, or anywhere near me. I panicked, my body responded, and I broke down in a flood of tears. I curled up and away from him, and tried to breathe. It terrified Rick. And I could not explain. How do I say to my husband that I felt like I was being raped - and that I allowed it?

A thought sneakily surfaced in the back of my head - and I pushed it away for about a week. But I couldn't help but note the obvious - the lack of sex drive also coincided with something else that's only been part of my life for one month. Birth control.

So I set out online to find out if any other women have the same complaint. I found a slew of recent surveys (winter 2006) in which research indicates that birth control not only decreases sex drive (meaning arousal, lubricant, the whole nine yards), but over a long enough period it could permanently damage it. I also found plenty of other women wondering precisely the same thing I am. There was a half-hearted piece of advice to switch birth control. But it was apparent that the medical givers of this advice didn't have too much faith in it. More promising was the "find another type of contraception" advice. Like what? Diaphragms and condoms that don't guarantee unwanted pregnancy? Patches that one can't hide too well (or shower in successfully?)?

On the plus side, I've been wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I can now fall back on the idea that nothing is wrong with me - I've been hormonally altered. I suppose I can quit the pill and see what happens. Or I could talk to my gynecologist, who has never been helpful in the few years I've been seeing him. I've talked to him about two serious problems - all of which he dismissed out of hand and lectured me for. 2 years in a row he lectured me about drinking more milk. I asked him how much he wanted me to drink beyond the 3 glasses I down everyday. I guess I could start with him, and if I get nowhere, hit planned parenthood (I've already paid for one gynecological visit this year - I'm not shelling out another $75 that Rick and I don't have).

Or I could just quit and Rick and I can lay our fate in the durability of condoms (the idea that birth control can permanently affect my sex drive is a scary idea). Can we afford to be pregnant in the next two years? No. Can our relationship survive this damaging lack of intimacy? No.

Russian roulette time.

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