No Babies for me, Thankyou.

Two weeks ago I made the final decision on a thing that will probably affect me for the rest of my life, and by god it came as a relief.

At 25 I have been eligible to vote on the running of my country for seven years, able to drive for eight, and legally able to consent to sex for almost a decade, yet the final say on whether or not I reproduce was not in my hands up until a fortnight ago.

I have never been the maternal type. I was not the sort of little girl that played with dolls, pushed prams, talked to teddy bears. I was not the sort of teenager that fantasised about her ideal wedding, and two point four children. That part of my identity has always been very secure - I have no interest in passing on my genes.
I do, on the other hand, have a healthy sex drive, and an incurable interest in the opposite sex (believe me, I've tried!). Celibacy is not an option. So, from puberty onwards, contraception has been an increasingly important issue in my life. And an increasingly frustrating one.

My family are immensely fertile - both of my parents come from large families, including some 'happy accidents'. My mother was pregnant within days of coming off the contraceptive pill. My aunts, uncles and cousins have all produced children the minute they wanted to.
Whilst I have none of my own, I've never been in any doubt that I could conceive in minutes, were I inclined to, but I'm not, have never been, and believe I never will be.
I am also intensely opposed to the idea of accidental pregnancies. I don't believe that any child should be born as the result of a broken condom, or a missed pill. I also don't believe in abortion as a method of contraception. A last resort yes, and I would consider it kinder to my unborn potential child than my carrying it to term, but a plan I hope never to have to put into force.

On the other hand, I am in a small number of women who react badly to *every form of contraception on the market* and believe me, I am qualified to say that. Hormone treatments - the pill, implants, injections etc. have some very scary effects on my mood, leading me to antidepressants and worse before I realised what was at the root of the problem. (There are whole segments of my life that I can look back on and be amazed that I survived it, let alone achieved anything, while I was using them.)
I have expelled two coils, and had a third removed as an emergency. There have been other problems, other scares and other issues, and all the while I have known that I am going through all of these temporary measures for the one reason alone: The medical profession would not let me make the final decision.

It is fairly well known fact that the NHS will not sterilise women under 35, other than in extreme circumstances, and are loath to do it if she hasn't already had children. All very noble in intention, and very nanny state- they don't want any woman to make an irreversible decision that she may come to regret, but it leaves women like me in a hell of a bind.

It is a less well known fact that there are almost no organisations that will sterilise a woman under 25, even privately.

I was 23 when I started making formal enquiries. I had exhausted every available option, my primary relationship was under strain because of it. I was stressed, I was paranoid, but I was still reasoned and fair thinking, and I was willing to put up my own savings to pay for it.

I went through counselling and discussions with doctors, and jumped through all of the hoops that I was asked to, was deemed sane and eligible, and perfectly appropriate for the operation by all of the right people - except, importantly, the surgeon, and *still* was turned down, on no other grounds but my age.
I had been able to vote for five years, nearly six, driving for seven and sexually active for longer than that, and doctors left me to take risks with my relationship, my sanity and my health all because of a rule that said *they could say no* if they felt uncomfortable operating on me because of my age.

Two more years of agonising, paranoia, arguments and stress, and finally I turned 25 and hit the arbitrary age bracket where I could make the decision, and of course, I jumped at the chance, but they kept me guessing until the very last minute as to whether they would go through with it.

My confidence had been so knocked by my previous experience, I didn't dare guess at which way it would go.
I didn't mention it except to the people who really needed to know. My family were out of the loop, and most of my friends, because I just couldn't face talking to everyone about it knowing I might be turned down again.
I was prepared to write angry letters to the papers, to start campaigning and making a noise out in public if I was turned down again - anything better than collapsing in a miserable heap, after all, and where else could I go?

To my huge relief, they did go through with it, however. I have two small keyhole scars, which will probably disappear entirely over the next few months, a bit of tenderness in my belly, and a sense of an enormous weight having been lifted off my shoulders.

But I am still angry.
How dare these people dictate whether or not I am right to choose not to breed.
Who is anyone to tell me, as an adult, what I can and can't do with my body?
Why did I have to jump through any hoops at all, and why did I have to pay through the nose for my decision?
As a country we are overpopulated. As an individual, my decision to not have children means that the state will not have to pay for their education, I will draw no child benefit, no child tax credit, no maternity pay. I will spend more time working and therefore pay more tax, and the money I save by not spending it on little people, will no doubt cover the pension that the government won't be able to afford to give me when I'm over 65. My decision will save you money.

I'm not expecting everyone to agree with my choice, and I have nothing at all against people who do choose to be parents (in fact, I have an immense respect for people that do, and do it well), but I still feel that it should have been *entirely* my decision, and mine to choose from the minute I could legally consent to sex, not the best part of ten years later.
Surely it only makes sense - If a woman is qualified to make the decision to have sex, then shouldn't she also be qualified to decide what the outcome will be?*

Yours, vociferously,

Red.
x

*Yes, i know, there will probably be smart alecs telling me that the male has a say in these things as well, but sorry guys, until science comes up with a way for you to be carrying the child, I say the final decision can and should always rest with the woman.

____
In other news:

• Nice Guy has been fantastic in looking after me since my operation (thank you, monster!).
  
• I've come up on a compromise in the rooming situation, but it's left me with just a single bed for the moment, which is a slight pain.
  
• I have a possible engagement with Fetish Diva next week, and I am away for the weekend with Mountain & friends at a wedding.
  

- Life isn't perfect, but it's definitely worth celebrating!