My Dirty Little Secret

My palms are getting sweaty, my breath is becoming shallow, and my eyes dart from side to side.  I quickly walk up to the merchandise and pick one off the shelf and bury it under the other groceries in my cart.  When I check out, I refuse to make eye contact with the checker.  I am embarrassed.  When I get home, I quickly stuff the goods into the top drawer of my dresser.  I take a deep breath. 

I’m a 30-something mother who is mortified to buy *gasp* condoms. 

It’s like I’m a teenager again - doing something that I know I’m NOT supposed to be doing.  I am an adult in a loving committed relationship.  I’m not seventeen.  I’ve been having sex for all of my adult life and yet buying condoms still invokes a sense of shame in me.  I am mortified every time I buy condoms.

For reasons that I know my spouse would kill me for sharing, condoms remain our only form of birth control.  Yes I know that they aren’t effective as the pill the IUD or just about any other form of birth control, it is our only choice.  Since we are still on the fence as to whether or not our son will remain an only child, permanent solutions are not an option for us. 

And so it remains that every time we are out of condoms, I get feelings of shame and embarrassment at the store when buying condoms.  I feel as if I have to justify the purchase to other shoppers in the grocery store.  “I am married.  Buying condoms when you are married is not a sin. I am NOT A SLUT.  I am a mom who really doesn’t want any more babies right now.” 

My spouse thinks we should buy them at Costco - you know, get the super giant pack that way we don’t have to pick them up as frequently.  Have you ever paid attention to how many people check out your groceries at Costco?  First there is the checker, then the person that moves your items from one cart to another, then the person at the door who checks your receipt.  God forbid the door-person can’t see the super box of condoms and pokes around for it in the cart.  Or I have to return an item on the receipt that has CONDOMS printed on it. 

A friend of mine told me I could buy 'em online.  Apparently the same companies that sell other adult items also carry contraceptives.  I was told that the condoms would even be shipped in a discreet package - I suppose the same sort of packing one would expect when purchasing adult videos.  But to buy them online and then see a brown paper package on our front step just feels sleazy.  Besides, don't we all know what is inside of discreet packaging anyways?  Now my postman would be thinking that we dabbled in more serious stuff than just buying condoms.  I don't think I'd ever be able to talk to my postman again - and I'm guessing his Christmas tip would be larger than usual to pay off the guilt I'd be feeling for making him deliver the goods.

So I'll guess I'll be sticking to the store where I'll continue to turn red, shuffle my feet, and act like a naughty teenager who's buying...hee hee.. condoms. And trying really damn hard to be grown-up about it.

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Original Silicon Valley Mom's Blog post.

When Robyn isn't admitting to her dirty little secrets, she writes about her life on her personal blog, Who's the Boss?