Our fortysomething, an obstetrics nurse, puts her birth-rate theories to the test.
Jeanne Faulkner is a freelance writer and registered nurse in Portland, Ore. Her work appears regularly in Pregnancy and Fit Pregnancy, and she has contributed articles to the Oregonian, Better Homes & Gardens, Shape and other magazines.
I work in the sex industry. I'm an expert, a specialist. I have a special outfit I wear and everything. Scrubs. Oh, I'm not in the action part of the business. I'm in the consequences part. I'm a labor and delivery nurse when I'm not being a journalist. All of my patients have one thing in common: Whether they're doctors, lawyers or teenagers, they were all doin' it nine months before. It's the common denominator, the bottom line; the one thing that keeps this world spinning. Sex.
News flash: People are funny about sex. They don't mind doing it; it's the talking about it and planning around it that makes them squirrelly. Most of the women I know aren't like those "Sex and the City" gals who gab about orgasms and sex toys over eggs benedict. I asked my husband once if guys talk about their sex lives. He actually guffawed. "No way--unless you count jokes and lies." And plan for it? Why do you think we have so many pregnant teenagers? It's not because they thought having a baby was such a good idea. No, it's because they got carried away or were bored, or thought if they bought birth control before they had sex, it would be too assertive, or perhaps too optimistic.
How about those experts who say married couples should schedule sex into their lives? Like actually write it in their day planner. I can just see it: Tuesday, April 15th, 9pm - Have sex. Oh wait, not that day. It's tax day. How does the 16th work for you? Busy? Oh. Well, how about the following week? Does Sunday afternoon look good? OK, I'll pencil you in. Not bad advice for some, but it just doesn't happen that way in real life.
You can watch the world's libido rise and fall by the census in any labor and delivery unit. Nine months after a natural disaster, tornado, snowstorm, presidential election, or major holiday involving alcohol and we're swamped with work. September is a particularly busy birth month. Yep, New Years Eve. Remember all the fuss about the world coming to an end at the close of December 31st, 1999? Turns out the computers were fine; it was the humans who weren't Y2K compliant. We were crazy busy on the maternity unit that year. Presidential elections? People either celebrate or commiserate. Power outages? What else are you going to do in the dark with no heat? One guess. We're heading into a recession apparently, and I expect next year we'll be teeming with newborns. Sex is free entertainment And it can sometimes result in some cute little tax deductions.
People have sex when they need each other, and it usually happens spontaneously when our legs are their hairiest and our underwear has holes in it. As a matter of fact, if you shave your legs and put on your lingerie, one of the kids will come down with an ear infection and you'll be up all night--and not in a good way. Sex happens for a lot of reasons; convenience is rarely one them.
After 9/11, we had a baby boom like never before. People clung to each other for solace and comfort--and got pregnant by the millions. War time is good for the economy in part because it creates so many new consumers. Soldiers go off to war with a private farewell. Soldiers on leave enjoy their freedom. Soldiers coming home from war celebrate. Baby, baby, oh baby.
We're having a mini boom right now and I can date it back to the 4th of July. Now that just doesn't seem like a sexy holiday to me, but as one couple I took care of recently told me, "Well, we were camping." Oh yeah, well, camping … when you put it that way. Now I get it--something about fireworks and the rocket's red glare?
We have more babies born in July, August and September than any other months of the year. Go ahead, count back: October, November and December. Baby, it's cold outside. It gets dark early. Bowls of soup, fire in the fireplace, early to bed, early to rise--that sort of thing. The fewest births happen in February. Surprisingly, people aren't having much sex in May. So much for spring fever. Everybody's tired of indoor sports and they want to go outside to play.
Now, I'm not certain my method of measuring the nation's sex drive via the maternity unit is all that accurate, but it seems to be fairly consistent. Actions (or should I say "action") lead to consequences.. In my end of the sex industry, it's all about the consequences.
Originally published on MyRegence.com
Comments