When it comes to contraception, many people are familiar with pills, IUDs, and condoms. But there’s one method that often goes unnoticed unless you’ve personally used it or know someone who has—the birth control stick. If you’ve ever seen one and wondered what it is, you’re not alone. Let’s dive deep into this discreet yet highly effective form of birth control.
What Is the Birth Control Stick?

The birth control stick, also known as the contraceptive implant, is a small, flexible rod inserted under the skin of a woman’s upper arm. This tiny device releases hormones to prevent pregnancy for several years, making it one of the most convenient long-term birth control options available.
Unlike birth control pills that require daily intake or patches that need to be changed weekly, the implant offers a hassle-free solution. It’s a “set it and forget it” kind of birth control—ideal for those who don’t want to worry about contraception on a daily basis.
How Does It Work?
The implant slowly releases a hormone called progestin into the bloodstream. This hormone primarily works in three ways to prevent pregnancy:
- Stopping Ovulation – If an egg isn’t released from the ovaries, sperm has nothing to fertilize.
- Thickening Cervical Mucus – This makes it difficult for sperm to swim through the cervix and reach an egg.
- Thinning the Uterine Lining – Even if an egg were to be fertilized, a thinner uterine lining makes implantation highly unlikely.
Because it operates on multiple levels, the birth control stick is one of the most effective contraceptive methods available, with a success rate of over 99%.
The Process of Getting It Inserted
Many people feel uneasy about the idea of having something placed under their skin, but the insertion process is quick and relatively painless. Here’s what to expect:
- A healthcare provider numbs a small area on your upper arm.
- A tiny incision is made, and the flexible rod is inserted just under the skin.
- The entire process takes just a few minutes and requires no stitches—just a small bandage.
Most people experience little to no discomfort after the procedure, and the implant starts working almost immediately if inserted at the right time in the menstrual cycle.
Who Should Consider the Birth Control Stick?
This form of birth control is ideal for those who:
- Want long-term protection against pregnancy without daily maintenance
- Cannot use estrogen-based contraception (like some birth control pills)
- Prefer a highly effective, reversible option
- Have busy lifestyles and don’t want to worry about forgetting to take a pill
However, it’s not for everyone. Some women may experience side effects, such as irregular bleeding, headaches, or changes in mood. It’s important to discuss with a healthcare provider whether this method is right for you.
Common Misconceptions About the Birth Control Stick
Because the implant isn’t as well-known as other birth control methods, several myths surround its use. Let’s debunk some of the most common ones:

- “It’s painful to get inserted.”
The insertion process is quick, and most people only feel a slight pinch when the numbing agent is applied. - “It can travel through your body.”
The implant stays in place under the skin. It does not move around your body or get lost. - “It makes you infertile.”
Fertility typically returns quickly after the implant is removed. Many women are able to conceive within a few months. - “It’s visible under the skin.”
While you may feel the implant if you press on the area, it is not visibly noticeable.
How Long Does It Last?
One of the biggest benefits of the birth control stick is its longevity. Depending on the brand, it can last anywhere from three to five years before needing replacement. If at any point you decide you want to conceive, it can be removed, and fertility usually returns within weeks or months.
The Removal Process

Just like insertion, removal is a straightforward procedure. A small incision is made in the same area, and the implant is gently taken out. Some women may experience a bit of bruising or tenderness, but recovery is usually quick.
Final Thoughts: Is the Birth Control Stick Right for You?
The birth control stick is a game-changer for many women who want a low-maintenance, highly effective contraceptive. If you’re tired of remembering to take a pill every day or dealing with other short-term birth control methods, this might be the perfect option.
Of course, every person’s body reacts differently to hormonal contraception, so it’s always best to consult a healthcare provider before making a decision. But if you’re looking for convenience, effectiveness, and long-term peace of mind, the birth control stick might just be the best-kept secret in contraception.
My Neighbor Installed a Toilet on My Lawn with a Note, ‘Flush Your Opinion Here,’ After I Asked Her Not to Sunbathe in Front of My Son’s Window

When I politely asked my neighbor to stop sunbathing in bikinis in front of my teenage son’s window, she retaliated by planting a filthy toilet on my lawn with a sign: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!” I was livid, but karma delivered the perfect revenge.
I should’ve known trouble was brewing when Shannon moved in next door and immediately painted her house purple, then orange, and then blue. But I’m a firm believer in living and letting live. That was right up until she started hosting bikini sunbathing spectacles right outside my 15-year-old son’s window.

A woman lying on a lounger | Source: Pexels
“Mom!” my son Jake burst into the kitchen one morning, his face redder than the tomatoes I was slicing for lunch. “Can you… um… do something about that? Outside my window?”
I marched to his room and peered out the window. There was Shannon, sprawled out on a leopard-print lounger, wearing the tiniest bikinis that could generously be called dental floss with sequins.
“Just keep your blinds closed, honey,” I said, trying to sound casual while my mind raced.

A woman opening curtains | Source: Pexels
“But I can’t even open them to get fresh air anymore!” Jake slumped against the bed.
“This is so weird. Tommy came over to study yesterday, and he walked into my room and just froze. Like, mouth open, eyes bulging, full system shutdown. His mom probably won’t let him come back!”
I sighed, closing the blinds. “Has she been out there like that every day?”
“Every. Single. Day. Mom, I’m dying. I can’t live like this. I’m going to have to become a mole person and live in the basement. Do we have Wi-Fi down there?”

A teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney
After a week of watching my teenage son practically parkour around his room to avoid glimpsing our exhibitionist neighbor, I decided to have a friendly chat with Shannon.
I usually mind my own business when it comes to what people do in their yards, but Shannon’s idea of ‘sunbathing’ was more like a public performance.
She’d lounge around in the skimpiest of bikinis, sometimes even going topless, and there was no way to miss her every time we stood near Jake’s window.

A woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels
“Hey, Shannon,” I called out, aiming for that sweet spot between ‘friendly neighbor’ and ‘concerned parent’ tone of voice. “Got a minute?”
She lowered her oversized sunglasses, the ones that made her look like a bedazzled praying mantis. “Renee! Come to borrow some tanning oil? I just got this amazing coconut one. Makes you smell like a tropical vacation and poor life choices.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk about your sunbathing spot. See, it’s right in front of my son Jake’s window, and he’s 15, and—”
“Oh. My. God.” Shannon sat up, her face splitting into an unnervingly wide grin. “Are you seriously trying to police where I can get my vitamin D? In my own yard?”

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
“That’s not what I—”
“Listen, sweetie,” she cut me off, examining her hot pink nails like they held the secrets to the universe. “If your kid can’t handle seeing a confident woman living her best life, maybe you should invest in better blinds. Or therapy. Or both. I know this amazing life coach who could help him overcome his repression. She specializes in aura cleansing and interpretive dance.”
“Shannon, please. I’m just asking if you could maybe move your chair literally anywhere else in your yard. You have two acres!”

A startled woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, then reached for her phone. “Let me check my schedule. Oh, look at that! I’m booked solid with not caring about your opinion until… forever.”
I retreated, wondering if I’d somehow stumbled into an episode of “Neighbors Gone Wild.” But Shannon wasn’t done with me yet. Not by a long shot.
Two days later, I opened my front door to grab the newspaper and stopped dead in my tracks.
There, proudly displayed in the middle of my perfectly manicured lawn, was a toilet bowl. Not just any toilet. It was an old, filthy, tetanus-inducing throne, complete with a handwritten sign that read: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!”
I knew it was Shannon’s handiwork.

A toilet with a sign installed on the lawn | Source: Midjourney
“What do you think of my art installation?” her voice floated over from her yard. She was perched on her lounger, looking like a very smug, very underdressed cat.
“I call it ‘Modern Suburban Discourse.’ The local art gallery already wants to feature it in their ‘Found Objects’ exhibition!” she laughed.
“Are you kidding me?” I gestured at the porcelain monstrosity. “This is vandalism!”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“No, honey, this is self-expression. Like my sunbathing. But since you’re so interested in giving opinions about what people do on their property, I thought I’d give you a proper place to put them.”
I stood there on my lawn, staring at Shannon cackling like a hyena, and something inside me just clicked.
You know that moment when you realize you’re playing chess with a pigeon? The bird’s just going to knock over all the pieces, strut around like it won, and leave droppings everywhere. That was Shannon.
I crossed my arms and sighed. Sometimes the best revenge is just sitting back and watching karma do its thing.

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
The weeks that followed tested my patience. Shannon turned her yard into what I can only describe as a one-woman Woodstock. The sunbathing continued, now with an added commentary track.
she invited friends, and her parties rattled windows three houses down, complete with karaoke renditions of “I Will Survive” at 3 a.m. She even started a “meditation drum circle” that sounded more like a herd of caffeinated elephants learning to Riverdance.
Through it all, I smiled and waved. Because here’s the thing about people like Shannon — they’re so busy writing their own drama that they never see the plot twist coming.
And oh boy, what a twist it was.

People at a party | Source: Unsplash
It was a pleasant Saturday. I was baking cookies when I heard sirens. I stepped onto my porch just in time to see a fire truck screech to a halt in front of my house.
“Ma’am,” a firefighter approached me, looking confused. “We received a report about a sewage leak?”
Before I could respond, Shannon appeared, wearing a concerned citizen face that deserved an Oscar. “Yes, officer! That toilet over there… it’s a health hazard! I’ve seen things… terrible things… leaking! The children, won’t someone think of the children?”

A firefighter holding a fire extinguisher | Source: Pexels
The firefighter looked at the bone-dry decorative toilet, then at Shannon, then back at the toilet. His expression suggested he was questioning every life choice that led him to this moment.
“Ma’am, making false emergency reports is a crime. This is clearly a lawn ornament,” he paused, probably wondering why he had to say a phrase like that as part of his job.
“A dry lawn ornament. And I’m a firefighter, not a health inspector.”

A firefighter staring at someone | Source: Pexels
Shannon’s face fell faster than her sunscreen coverage rating. “But the aesthetic pollution! The visual contamination!”
“Ma’am, we don’t respond to aesthetic emergencies, and pranks are definitely not something we respond to.”
With that, the firefighters left the property, but karma wasn’t finished with Shannon. Not by a long shot.

An angry woman gritting her teeth | Source: Midjourney
The fire truck drama barely slowed her down. If anything, it inspired her to reach new heights. Literally.
One scorching afternoon, I spotted Shannon hauling her leopard-print lounger up a ladder to her garage roof. And there she was, perched up high like some sort of sunbathing gargoyle, armed with a reflective tanning sheet and what looked like an industrial-sized margarita.
I was in my kitchen, elbow-deep in dinner dishes, and wondering if this was the universe’s way of testing my blood pressure when the sound of chaos erupted outside.

Close-up of a woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels
I heard a splash and a screech that sounded like a cat in a washing machine. I rushed outside to find Shannon face-down in her prized petunias, covered from head to toe in mud.
Turned out that her new rooftop sunbathing spot had met its match — her malfunctioning sprinkler system.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, dropped her gardening shears. “Good Lord! Shannon, are you trying to recreate Baywatch? Because I think you missed the beach part. And the running part. And the… well… every part.”
Shannon scrambled up, caked in mud. Her designer bikini was now accessorized with grass stains and what appeared to be a very surprised earthworm.

A shocked woman with mud on her face | Source: Midjourney
Following the incident, Shannon was as quiet as a church mouse. She stopped sunbathing in front of Jake’s window, and the dirty toilet bowl on my lawn disappeared faster than a magician’s rabbit.
Shannon invested in a privacy fence around her backyard, and our long suburban nightmare was over.
“Mom,” Jake said at breakfast the next morning, cautiously raising his blinds, “is it safe to come out of witness protection now?”
I smiled, sliding him a plate of pancakes. “Yeah, honey. I think the show’s been canceled. Permanently.”

A teenage boy smiling | Source: Midjourney
“Thank god,” he muttered, then grinned. “Though I kind of miss the toilet. It was weirdly starting to grow on me. Like a really ugly lawn gnome.”
“Don’t even joke about that. Eat your pancakes before she decides to install a whole bathroom set!” I said, sharing a hearty laugh with my son as we looked at the wall around Shannon’s yard.

Window view of an empty yard | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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