Like millions of women I used to take the pill, and was lucky enough not to have any unpleasant side effects.
Then in 1995 thousands of women stopped taking it because of reports that it increased the risk of blood clots.
Despite that, I only stopped taking the pill because a friend suggested using fertility awareness as contraception.
I thought is sounded a bit fringe, not like a
Then in 1995 thousands of women stopped taking it because of reports that it increased the risk of blood clots.
Despite that, I only stopped taking the pill because a friend suggested using fertility awareness as contraception.
I thought is sounded a bit fringe, not like a
serious way to avoid pregnancy.
It also felt irresponsible. We were both working in the NHS, in public health (I was a librarian). We knew how risk could be over-reported in the media.
Stepping away from the pill felt like breaking some unwritten rule.
But I was curious, and intrigued by the method's feminist history. And as a librarian. I loved the idea of how knowledge could give us power over our bodies.
So I borrowed my friend's book, bought a thermometer, asked her some questions and got on with it - after checking in with my husband who was happy for us to go ahead, especially as we were planning to have a baby at some point.
I was nervous. There was no reassuring drug packaging, or recommendations from doctors. The only official-looking gadget I had was a thermometer – not exactly high-tech!
And yet I thought, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Fertility awareness might not be the glossiest method but the book and my friend were convincing.
So I took the momentous step and…didn’t feel that different, though I did notice some of my hair falling out, a fairly common side effect of coming off the pill which calmed down eventually.
Most importantly, it worked! I was able to avoid pregnancy and then plan pregnancy – just like it said in the book! Science!
And I was able to avoid all the hassle of doctor appointments. And I got the wonderful “I am the queen of my fertility” feeling from being able to recognise the signs that ovulation had occurred.
And the smugness of saving money for the NHS, and being eco, and having a method that could be used in the event of a zombie apocalypse – all that.
When I did visit the doctor (for something else) I was surprised to get a bemused smile when I asked him about the impact of crossing time zones on my waking temperature.
He said “You probably know more about this than I do”.
What? I thought, this is all down to me? Don’t doctors get taught this stuff at medical school?
It was an alarming moment, but I'm glad he trusted me to get on with it and didn’t give me a lecture about how irresponsible I was being – which is what many women have to endure.
So on I went, using the method to help me get pregnant when the time came, and following the LAM rules when I was breastfeeding. Again, I was slightly nervous, but I took "the more you feed the better it works" message to heart, and it worked, again!
After that, instead of being open to having another child if the method failed I became open to having an abortion if necessary. The method worked for us so I didn't have one but I did volunteer with an abortion charity and continue to be a big supporter of abortion rights.
Later on, after being told it didn't work for the zillionth time, I decided to train as a Fertility UK fertility awareness practitioner so I could support women (and their partners).
I also wanted to make sure I could use it myself in my 40s, which is when the guidelines tell us it is more difficult to use. Based on what I had learned I gradually changed my approach and it still worked.
So I feel very thankful for that pill scare, my friend and that borrowed book.
It also felt irresponsible. We were both working in the NHS, in public health (I was a librarian). We knew how risk could be over-reported in the media.
Stepping away from the pill felt like breaking some unwritten rule.
But I was curious, and intrigued by the method's feminist history. And as a librarian. I loved the idea of how knowledge could give us power over our bodies.
So I borrowed my friend's book, bought a thermometer, asked her some questions and got on with it - after checking in with my husband who was happy for us to go ahead, especially as we were planning to have a baby at some point.
I was nervous. There was no reassuring drug packaging, or recommendations from doctors. The only official-looking gadget I had was a thermometer – not exactly high-tech!
And yet I thought, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Fertility awareness might not be the glossiest method but the book and my friend were convincing.
So I took the momentous step and…didn’t feel that different, though I did notice some of my hair falling out, a fairly common side effect of coming off the pill which calmed down eventually.
Most importantly, it worked! I was able to avoid pregnancy and then plan pregnancy – just like it said in the book! Science!
And I was able to avoid all the hassle of doctor appointments. And I got the wonderful “I am the queen of my fertility” feeling from being able to recognise the signs that ovulation had occurred.
And the smugness of saving money for the NHS, and being eco, and having a method that could be used in the event of a zombie apocalypse – all that.
When I did visit the doctor (for something else) I was surprised to get a bemused smile when I asked him about the impact of crossing time zones on my waking temperature.
He said “You probably know more about this than I do”.
What? I thought, this is all down to me? Don’t doctors get taught this stuff at medical school?
It was an alarming moment, but I'm glad he trusted me to get on with it and didn’t give me a lecture about how irresponsible I was being – which is what many women have to endure.
So on I went, using the method to help me get pregnant when the time came, and following the LAM rules when I was breastfeeding. Again, I was slightly nervous, but I took "the more you feed the better it works" message to heart, and it worked, again!
After that, instead of being open to having another child if the method failed I became open to having an abortion if necessary. The method worked for us so I didn't have one but I did volunteer with an abortion charity and continue to be a big supporter of abortion rights.
Later on, after being told it didn't work for the zillionth time, I decided to train as a Fertility UK fertility awareness practitioner so I could support women (and their partners).
I also wanted to make sure I could use it myself in my 40s, which is when the guidelines tell us it is more difficult to use. Based on what I had learned I gradually changed my approach and it still worked.
So I feel very thankful for that pill scare, my friend and that borrowed book.