45. Gabriela
Chapter 45
Gabriela
I sit in the waiting room, staring at the pastel-colored magazine covers that line the side table. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and lotion. It’s familiar, a place I’ve come to more times than I care to count. Today is just another check-in, another routine visit. Except it’s not. Not today.
I’ve been thinking about it for weeks—what I’d say, what I’d do if the topic came up. The topic being birth control. I know it’s not the most exciting thing to think about, but it’s important. And now that Joaquín and I are together, it feels like something I should start taking a little more seriously. We’ve been together long enough that it’s not just about us anymore. It’s about the future. The future with me, him, Mireya. Maybe kids eventually.
But not yet. Not yet, not until after graduation. Not until I’m sure.
I glance at the clock, watching the seconds tick by as I wait. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve been on birth control for years, but for the first time, it feels different. It feels like it matters more. This time, it’s not just about avoiding a mistake; it’s about planning for a life.
I hear my name called, and I stand up quickly, smoothing my shirt as I walk into the back. Dr. Vargas is waiting for me—her warm smile immediately puts me at ease. I’ve been seeing her for years. She was my mom’s doctor, and she always makes me feel comfortable.
“Hi, Gabriela. How are you today?” Dr. Vargas asks, motioning for me to sit on the exam table. I pull my legs up onto the paper-covered surface and sit with my back straight, trying not to fidget.
“I’m good, just... you know, another day, another appointment,” I reply with a weak smile. I feel a little awkward, unsure of how to start this conversation. It’s not like I’ve never talked to her about birth control before, but today feels different.
“Alright, anything you want to discuss today? Any concerns?” Dr. Vargas asks, settling onto her stool across from me, her pen poised above her notepad.
“Well,” I begin, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about birth control options. I’ve been on the shot for a while now, but I don’t really like it, and I’m wondering if there’s something else I should try. Maybe something I could keep consistent without needing to go to the clinic every three months.”
She nods, tapping her pen thoughtfully against her pad. “I understand. The shot isn’t for everyone. There are several other options available, depending on what you’re looking for. What exactly do you dislike about it?”
I hesitate, my thoughts shifting between the past and present. “It’s just the whole... process. The timing, the appointment, and the way it affects my mood sometimes. It’s not bad, but it doesn’t feel like the right fit for me anymore. And now that I’m in a relationship, I don’t want to be thinking about it all the time.”
Dr. Vargas writes something down on her pad before meeting my eyes again. “Are you considering long-term birth control or something more short-term? We could talk about IUDs, implants, or the pill. It really depends on your lifestyle and what you’re comfortable with.”
The pill has never worked well for me—too many hormones, too many side effects. IUDs make me nervous, and the thought of something permanent, even if it’s not permanent permanent , doesn’t sit well with me. Implants are more appealing, but I haven’t done enough research yet.
“I think I’d prefer something I don’t have to think about constantly,” I say, my voice soft, as if I’m asking for permission to speak honestly. “I’m just trying to plan ahead, you know? Joaquín and I have talked about the future, and... well, I don’t want to have a baby until after college. I just want to make sure I’m protected, especially now that things feel a little more serious between us.”
Dr. Vargas’s expression softens as she listens, her posture relaxed. “I see. You’re in a committed relationship now, and it sounds like you’re thinking ahead about family planning. It’s important to feel in control of your options, especially when the idea of starting a family is on the table.”
The words “starting a family” hang in the air, and I suddenly feel the weight of them. It’s strange to think about. Joaquín and I haven’t been together for long, but there’s an ease between us, something that feels like a natural fit. He’s a steady presence in my life, and he’s been so good with Mireya—more than good. He’s been a part of our little world, and the idea of adding more to it doesn’t feel scary—it feels like a possibility, a future I can’t fully grasp yet. But not right now. Not before I finish school. Not before I feel secure enough to take that next step.
“I don’t want to rush into anything,” I add quickly. “I just want to be careful, you know?”
“I understand. It sounds like you’re being responsible and thoughtful about it,” Dr. Vargas reassures me, her tone warm. “It’s good that you’re communicating with Joaquín about your birth control and your plans for the future. That’s the most important thing. Let me walk you through your options.”
She goes on to explain the different types of birth control that could work for me, outlining the pros and cons of each. The implant, the IUD, the pill. I listen intently, nodding as she speaks, my mind racing with the possibilities. I want something that fits into my life easily, that I don’t have to remember or worry about. I also want something that feels like a safety net, so I’m not caught off guard by something I’m not ready for.
“And I know you’re in a relationship now,” Dr. Vargas continues, her voice measured and patient, “but I just want to remind you that birth control is about more than just preventing pregnancy. It’s also about your health—your menstrual cycle, your hormones, and how your body reacts. It’s important to consider all of those factors before making a decision.”
I nod again, but the thought of making a decision is daunting. There’s so much to think about. I’m not just protecting myself—I’m protecting us. My relationship with Joaquín, my sister, and the life I’ve been building. A baby is a huge responsibility, one I’m not ready for yet, and I want to be sure I’m doing everything I can to keep things that way.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, glancing at the screen. It’s a text from Joaquín.
Joaquín
Hey, Reina. Just wanted to check in. You still at your appointment? Miss you. Mireya and I are doing great.
A photo of them in a pillow fort in the living room has me smiling. I show Dr. Vargas and she smiles. “He seems like a keeper.”
I smile as I re-read it and stare at the picture, feeling a warm flush of affection. Joaquín has been so supportive throughout all of this, never pushing, always understanding when I need space or time to think. He’s steady, sure of himself in a way that I admire now. He always listens when I talk about the future. But it’s not just about the future of our relationship—it’s about his future, too. And he’s been clear about what he wants and what he’s willing to do.
The text is enough to remind me of what we’ve talked about—about when we’ve talked about it. Joaquín’s been asking questions lately. Questions about what my birth control is and what our plans are for the future. And, honestly, he’s been thoughtful about it. A little nervous, even in his own way. Not because he doesn’t want kids, but because he knows that now is not the right time.
In fact, Joaquín told me he plans on being stable with his job once he graduates. He told me that whatever path I choose, he’ll make sure we’re taken care of—that he’ll be able to provide for me, for Mireya, and for any children we decide to have.
He said it so matter-of-factly, but there was something in his voice—a quiet confidence—that made me believe him. It made me believe he would be ready when the time came and that we could make it work. But I don’t want to rush. I don’t want to rush anything until we’re ready. And right now, that’s not the next step.
Dr. Vargas watches me for a moment, waiting for me to respond to her suggestions. But I’m lost in thought for a second.
“I think I need to talk to him about the options,” I say finally, looking up at her. “I’m not sure which one would work best for me or for us. Graduation is only three years away. IUD’s last longer than that.” I feel my face flush, thinking about how in three years from now I could be asking him to have a baby with me.
That’s insane, isn’t it?
She smiles kindly, not pushing me to make a decision right now. “That’s completely fine, Gabriela. Take your time. This is your body, your choice. It’s very kind of you to include his opinion in all of it, but remember, you know what’s best for you. We can revisit this at your next appointment if you’d like, or you can always call and I can squeeze you in.”
I nodded, feeling a little lighter, a little more at ease. Maybe I don’t need to have it all figured out today. Maybe the most important thing right now is that I’m taking responsibility for my future—and Joaquín is a part of that future. I want to make these decisions with him.