Thursday, July 7, 2011

My Planned Parenthood Story

This is a post about Planned Parenthood.  More importantly, this is a post about my experiences with Planned Parenthood.  As always, your mileage may vary. 

The very first time I had sex and the very first time I needed Planned Parenthood coincided like a lunar eclipse of awkwardness and self-induced shame.  I had met David (aka the Future Mr. Heather-pedia) and we were very slowly falling into nerd love (the most pure kind of love there is).  I hadn’t had sex with anyone at that point in my life, but David had.  David is a bisexual and had had relationships with both men and women.  He and I were very honest with each other.  He admitted to being both young and ignorant a few times and not using protection. I admitted that I had a few bouts of ignorance-induced oral sex myself.  Being the paranoid-type of person that I am, I felt that we should get tested for STD’s before we had sex.  The question was, where?  We were poor college students living on chips and salsa and a generous-but-nutritionally-lacking meal plan.  We couldn’t afford to see a doctor, much less pay for the tests and the much-hoped-for birth control.  What could we do?

I thought about everything I had been taught about sex in my public school, promptly had a panic attack, and started to cry.  I had learned absolutely nothing about what to do or where to get help.  The sum total of my sex ed was simply DON’T DO IT!  Easy enough advice to take when surrounded by high school knuckle-draggers who’d rather stuff me into a locker than see me as a sexual being, but when faced with a gorgeous Star Trek fan with long black hair and a rakish tattoo-goatee combo, what girl could resist such charms?  I remembered someone somewhere mentioning Planned Parenthood.  I can’t for the life of me remember who, or the context of the conversation.  All I could remember was that, according to the conservative masses, Planned Parenthood = abortion.  I was pro-choice at the time (still am) and didn’t know of the other services Planned Parenthood had to offer, but I assumed that they could recommend some type of clinic or service to me, much the same way you call your dentist for a recommendation for an orthodontist.

I made the phone call alone in my dorm room, while my roommate was out and the door was locked.  If my phone could get reception under the bed, I would’ve been hiding under there too.  What was I afraid of?  I guess I was afraid of some neon sign suddenly appearing on my door, blinking bright pink and orange “Slut! Slut! Slut!” announcing my intentions to all my dorm mates and any visitors they might have.    So deeply ingrained was this notion of sex as a destroyer of feminine “goodness”, that wanting sex made me a bad person, and that planning for sex made me a dirty, filthy sinner that it was all I could do to force my shaky fingers to dial the number and not hang up the minute a person answered.  But I managed to squeak out my request: do you know of a place where I can get tested for STD’s and a prescription for birth control pills?  The woman on the other end of the phone replied with a friendly yet brisk “we can do that” and set me up an appointment.  I was surprised, to say the least.  Didn’t they only do abortions?  I had much to learn.  A quick Google search later and I felt I was up to speed.  If only I had the foresight to Google “pap smear”.

So David and I bribed a friend to drive us.  For David, it’s an unfairly simple procedure.  A questionnaire, a little blood drawn, and he’s done.  I, on the other hand, was a shaking nervous wreck.  The nurse took me into a little room and asked me questions about my health and my sexual history.  I’m the kind of person who starts to babble and make jokes when I’m nervous, and by God was I nervous!  I sat shaking in the chair the entire time, convinced that I was a horrible, dirty person who had absolutely zero business having sex.  Neither one of us did, truth be told.  I still read fanfiction and David had a figurine of baby Gonzo holding a stuffed chicken on his computer desk.  We were the last two people on the planet who should be having sex, and yet we wanted to badly.  We were in love and slaves to our hormones.  We couldn’t say no to each other anymore.  Our wanting each other had become too great to ignore, and so even though we shouldn’t, we had to, lest we go crazy and devolve into piles of pink, hormonal goo and never graduate college. 

I related all the above to the nurse, who was the picture of patience.  I’m sure I wasn’t the first nervous, blithering teenager she had to talk down, and I certainly wasn’t the last.  I got into the pink, hormonal goo part of my rant when she interrupted me.

“Well, just because you’re ready to have sex doesn’t mean you’re ready to be parents.  That’s why you’re here, right?”

This simple sentence gave me pause.  She was absolutely right.  I had sex and love and parenthood and goodness and purity and value judgments all mixed up in my head.  I wasn’t mature enough to have a child, but I was mature enough to want sex (truth be told, I wanted sex since I was fifteen and discovered masturbation, but that’s a whole different story).  And this woman reassured me that being mature enough for sex and not mature enough for children was ok. That whole paradox is why God gave us birth control (praise be to Her).  Granted, it took me a while to get over the misogynistic judgments on my worth based on my lack of a hymen, but the fact that she took the time to reassure me that not only were my feeling normal, but that I was doing the Right Thing by getting help with the not-having-kids thing helped take the bite out of the virgin/whore complex.

Sufficiently calmed down, I let her take the blood, had my first Pap smear, and got a prescription for the Pill.  David and I drove home and waited.  When we got the phone call about our blood tests, we were both on edge.  We came back with an all-clear.  We celebrated our non-STD having status by having sex that night.  It was alright.  It got better.

Four years later, we still get our Pills from Planned Parenthood.  David still has the statuette of baby Gonzo.  I still think he’s Sex-Walking-Upright.  The only thing that has changed is I know more about Planned Parenthood and its services.  I will defend them to the death, because I remember being that terrified, shaky, paranoid 18 year old and Planned Parenthood was there for me.  I may be 24 now, but somewhere there is another 18 year old like me, who needs support, guidance, and straight answers.  I will be there for her by making sure that Planned Parenthood is always there for her. 

Edit:  Please visit What Tami Said to read other women's stories about their experiences at Planned Parenthood.

2 comments:

  1. If I had a planned parenthood story to tell it would merely be this. I've never used birth control, I have never needed an STD test or anything of the sort, but I do know how it influenced you and it was something that was always there in the back of my mind. Like my version of Jiminy Cricket saying 'let your conscience be your guide, but if that fails, planned parenthood is meant to help people in your situation.' and I knew that, should my body trump my mind and will, that I would have a back up plan. I started to get really worried when someone *cough* government *cough* started to shake that belief. They shook down and started compromising the comfort of knowing that if I needed it, they'd be there. I started freaking out about being on my dads insurance and not being able to get birth control should I need it. I actually lost sleep wondering what kind of whore my dad would think I was if I started birth control because I was having sex with my Fiance, the man I am going to marry.

    The biggest problem here: I want to have sex, but I despise children. (i'm a freak of nature, please move on) in all of my 23 years, i have NEVER wanted children and it's only gotten worse as I've gotten older. This all means that i'm a 23 year old woman with hormones and a sex drive but i have NO intention of even WANTING kids. So, where does this leave me? It leaves me with birth control, planned parenthood and my backup plan. I've always considered an abortion should I get pregnant, but adoption is the only option now with a fiance that hates the idea. (which is fine) I am very happy to hear that she told you it was ok to want sex, but to also know that you can't handle children. I applaud her for that and think she did a wonderful thing for you. (especially knowing how you freak out) If i could, i'd hug her.

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  2. It's really awesome of you to share this and I'm glad that everything turned out to be alright for you and for David too. Your story, and stories like it, are the reason why I'll take Mr. Baby out to brave the aggressive pro-lifers and rally for the right to complete healthcare.

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