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Posted on March 28th, 2011 by David R. Ford
The last time I saw my birth mother before she died, we talked about the circumstances of my birth. I was the last of the four children she had given up for adoption. She candidly described the various methods she and our birth father had used to avoid all of those unwanted pregnancies. My birth mother laughed as she told me that I was the “Diaphragm Baby.” I tried to laugh along with her, saying that the sperm that made me must have been a tough guy. But I thought to myself how lucky I was that she hadn’t been very skilled at using her diaphragm.