I am not Sponge Worthy

A few months ago I decided that I would go off The Pill. Don’t worry darlin’ NoMommy’s come down from the euphoria of 1 perfect day with The Bug. I have rescinded the offer to play host to another Bug anytime soon.

But, I have been thinking that I’ve been on The Pill long enough, and with my sister’s recent breast cancer diagnosis, I don’t want to put any extra estrogen in my body.

So, I headed over to drugstore.com, since, despite the fact that I have a wedding ring on and usually a baby in tow, I am totally embarrassed to purchase any items that suggest that I might actually ‘do it.’

Ever since that hilarious Seinfeld episode way back in 1995, you know, the one where Elaine tests her boyfriend for ‘sponge worthiness’, I have had Elaine’s favorite birth control method in the back of my mind. But, of course, they were on backorder.

Instead of just waiting, I decided to try some gel insert thingy. I’d never heard of anything like it, but the description sounded good, so I figured what the hell.

When they arrived, I recruited Ralph for some scientific investigation. The problems started almost instantly:

1)You have to wait 10 minutes after you put the thing in your hoo haw before you can do the deed. Anyone with little kids knows that you may not get 10 minutes of doin' the deed time in the first place.
2)Here’s where I give TMI. When the deed is done, there’s just a whole lot of extra fluid down there. I guess it’s the gel, but it feels guhhhhrooooossss!
3)If you go for round 2 (or 3 or 4) of bow chicka wow wow, you have to use another insert and wait another 10 minutes each time.

This shit was just way too high-maintenance for me.

Back to drugstore.com, where they have the sponge in stock, Yippee! I buy it, and soon it arrives in that happy little box that just leaves my mailman guessing.

Since the sponge has been put out there as the holy grail of birth control, I was so excited to finally have a box of my very own, that I ripped into it like a kid opening a birthday present.

When I started to read the directions, I felt like I had gotten socks. WTF, I have two graduate degrees people and I have no f*cking idea what these directions are saying!

Bend your wrist and point the end of the folded sponge toward your vagina. Be sure that you can see the fold when you look down at it and that the string loop dangles below.

They go on to say:

Check the position of the sponge by sliding your finger around the edge of the sponge to make sure your cervix is not exposed.

Are you f*cking kidding me! I need a fracking anatomy lesson just to know how to get this sh*t into my hoo haw.

Thankfully, the next section of the directions say, “to use this method effectively, it is important for you to understand your anatomy.” No sh*t! Then they add several lovely drawings of the female anatomy.

Folks, I am still lost.

I think to myself, maybe it is something that you have to just do in order to understand what to do. You know, like…well I don’t know, but I’m sure that there is something.

So I go into the bathroom armed with the directions and a sponge, and wait for the Ahaaa! moment.

It never comes.

Oh, sure, I got the thing in my hoo haw, I’m pretty sure that I even have it facing the right way, but, since I am not a gynecologist, I really couldn’t be sure if my f*cking cervix is exposed or not.

I guess I’ll know if I passed my anatomy test around the middle of next month.