Viking Funerals

Years ago, only months after the birth of the wild child, the husband and father to my two children had a vasectomy, and I stopped thinking about birth control. At gynecologist appointments in the years that followed, I answered the inevitable question about my birth control method by stating that my husband had a vasectomy. One physician commented, wryly, that that kept him from becoming a father, but others simply made a chart note and went on. I occasionally noted to myself that the vasectomy choice kept me faithful, but had my hands full with survival and so did not let my thinking dwell in that realm in those years.

When life shifted and our poly relationship began to evolve, I was, for the first time in over 20 years, confronted with the issue of managing the question of preventing unwanted pregnancy as a result of engaging in adult sexual intimacy. Our sexual dynamic developed slowly and with a good deal of starting and stopping, but eventually, it became clear that there was a need to address the potential for conception to occur if we were to continue on as we were. I needed to make an active birth control choice. I made an appointment with my doctor.

That encounter was interesting. I was not a young woman, even then, and I was clear about what I did and did not want in the way of contraceptive methodologies. I'd done my homework, was a committed and responsible and determined adult, and when I talked with my doctor, I told him that I wanted a good, old-fashioned diaphragm that I'd have control of and that would not be screwing with my already tenuous hormonal balance. He was a little taken aback, and as it turned out, did not have a currently viable kit for fitting such an "archaic" device. We had to wait while he ordered a new kit. Good grief. Eventually, the "raincoat" as we've come to refer to the little devil was duly fitted and delivered and we've used it to good effect, making sure that no unexpected additions to Clan Heron have come about (at least in that way).

Now, obviously, there is no need for the "raincoat" any longer... I am still recuperating. Not feeling fabulous, but doing better each day. The weather here is unseasonably warm and the pond behind our home beckons...

I simply cannot stop seeing in my mind's eye the vision of the diaphragm, floating away on the pond in the dark, tealight candle burning brightly in the night, Norse music drifting off to the stars as the smoke carries the brave little warrior off to its final resting place...

swan