My Sulvan Story

If anyone is actually out there reading this, I recommend that you check out this link before continuing. The ladies at CSPP have a delightfully witty and intelligent blog which I very much enjoy. After reading that post, you will understand the title of this one.

I married much earlier than I ever anticipated. In making that choice, I passed up scads of brilliant grad school opportunities. At the time when friends were considering law schools, MBA programs, and other lofty academic pursuits, I was navigating the world of wedding dresses and china patterns. While I was outwardly happy with the prospect of sharing my life with my beloved, deep down, I was hugely disappointed in myself, and felt that several people very close to me shared that same opinion. I had allowed the world to sell me its bill of goods that in order for a woman to be worth anything, she must abjure home and family and make her own way in the world. While I technically could have continued my studies, I did not want to cripple a new marriage with more debt than had already been accumulated from my undergrad studies. So I got a job unrelated to my field of study, just like every other liberal arts major that doesn’t go to grad school, and I kissed a promising academic career goodbye.

As the world first convinced me that marriage was a less than admirable pursuit, it was even easier to buy the message that having children is the equivalent to the end of your life. If you must get married, then for Pete’s sake, DON’T have kids. Or at least not right away. I heard that message from various and sundry well meaning individuals, as well as absorbed it by osmosis from the world around me. Not to mention that I have never been one of those “kid” people. Call me what you will, but I have never been one to fawn over a baby simply because it’s a baby, nor have I ever been impressed with childish antics simply because the person acting inappropriately is under 36” tall. As I was a child who very rarely acted like one, I never did understand why children do some of the things that they do. And the fascination and permissiveness of adults towards certain outrageous behaviors of children further convinced me that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with bearing or raising one of my own. To whit, I popped my little pill every night and carried on in blissful, child-free ignorance.

After four years of continuous pill popping, the detrimental physical and mental effects of synthetic hormones had taken their toll. When I finally began to link the problems I was having to my use of the pill, I went to see my doctor. She had me convinced that I was just this side of the looney bin. It couldn’t possibly be the pill that was causing these terrible occurrences, she said. You should stay on it until menopause as it’s safer than getting pregnant, she said. I went to specialists and did extensive personal research, all of which pointed to a link between hormonal birth control and my physical ailments. So what did I do next? I ditched the evil big-pharma doctor, and thanked God that I found a group of integrative medical doctors in my geographical area. The first doctor I saw there told me to stop the pill immediately as it was doing me great harm. He told me to start learning NFP. I followed his advice and slowly began to regain my health.

Once I tossed the pills, it was as if I had broken free of shackles. Learning about the harmful effects of the pill as well as investigating natural alternatives led to a period of personal discovery. For four years I had been plodding along like a horse with blinders. I had allowed my mind to stagnate because I thought that the choices I had made rendered me worthless. How foolish to have put myself through that kind of turmoil. I came to the realization that you don’t need degrees and fancy abbreviations behind your name to be intelligent. If I was as smart as I liked to think I was, I wouldn’t have tormented myself for years with that kind of foolishness.

Shortly thereafter I found myself faced with a minor crisis of faith. It wasn’t that I doubted my faith or the object of it, but my church had decided to become Purpose Driven. The reading and research that I did after this announcement led to the agonizing but necessary decision to find a new church home. Although it was not easy, the search again led to another period of discovery. This one however served to grow and deepen my faith instead of myself.

One of the ideas to which I was introduced along the way is that contraception in any form is wrong. I weighed and measured that one in my mind, initially rejected it, yet remained haunted by it. I prayed and searched for answers and couldn’t find any that I was completely comfortable with. If children are gifts from God, I had been willfully rejecting any chance of becoming a recipient. The reason you ask? My own comfort. Life as a DINK is pretty good. The addition of kids would mean one income, reduced flexibility, no sleep, more headaches – honestly, who wants to deal with that? But alas, God didn’t say “Be prosperous and fill your house with stuff,” He said “Be fruitful and multiply.” I just hate getting busted like that.

I continued to consider, and think, and work out the whole thing in my mind. All I got for my trouble was more uncertainty and a whopper of a headache. So one fateful day I decided to turn the whole mess over to God, as I should have done from the beginning. Poor Manny had been eagerly anticipating this day as he had always been open to the idea of kids – the opposition had been all mine.

Suffice it to say that baby #1 is due in August. (More on that later.)

The end.