I had vented my annoyance with those birth control pill blister packs to my husband multiple times. Seriously, tiny pills being popped out of those old-fashioned packs means multiple tiny blue pills soaring into the air and landing on our blue rugs and lost to time and space forever.
Changing birth control methods isn’t for us at the moment (been there, done that). So these damned packs… just one more frustrating element that the person with the baby-growing parts has to deal with that the partner doesn’t. To my mind, at least.
Resentment breeding ground, is what I’m saying here.
One night, after watching me lose another pill, he said, “Let me prep your birth control from now on.” Not in a “geez, girl” way either, which helped.
And now, after seeing him struggle a few times with the packs and triumphantly handing over the tiny pill, I feel a lot better about things. It really has helped my frustration to see my partner joining me there, dealing with something exactly how I have to deal with it.
I don’t feel as alone in this birth control thing now that he’s there every night, taking the pill out, handing it to me. He knows first-hand how mundane it is, how annoying it is. But that little gesture makes the one-sided-ness of hormonal birth control feel, for me, a tiny bit more shared.
And there have been fewer pills on the floor, so you know, that’s a plus.