I didn’t have £30 for a morning-after pill when I needed it – and it changed my life

The news that the morning-after pill is to be made free to access from over 10,000 pharmacies in England was so thrilling that I felt it right through my body.

I know from personal experience how important this is. Until now, anyone who needed emergency contraception in this country has been able to get it for free via GP surgeries and sexual health clinics, or by paying up to £30 to get it from pharmacies. It may be a small amount of money for some people, yet it could be life-changing beyond measure. Fifteen years ago, when I needed the morning-after pill and couldn’t afford it, it may as well have been a grand.

These days, modern gadgets and gizmos mean that I never forget to take medication. My smart watch reminds me to take them, and I have a stack laid out in little pots by the sink where I refill my water bottle for the day. Often, my early-rising husband brings both to me in bed as though I were Princess Margaret. I use a banking app which syncs between my phone and watch, and means I always know how much money I have, and can automatically syphon off money to save.

These tools did not exist in 2010 when I was 27. I wasn’t on a great wage, and I was terrible with money. When I realised that I had forgotten to take two birth control pills on the trot, it was a Sunday afternoon and I had just waved goodbye to my boyfriend as he disappeared down to the Tube at Waterloo station. The GP surgeries were closed, and so were the sexual health clinics.

When I rushed round to Boots to buy a morning-after pill, my card was declined. The want of that £30 may have changed my life.

When I got to the sexual health clinic, it was now too late for the morning-after pill. They recommended I should have a coil fitted instead, which would have the same effect and give me contraceptive cover for up to five years.

Having it fitted was excruciating. It was worse than my bones constantly dislocating before my hip replacement. Worse than when I fell off my bike and smashed my front teeth. I am told that most people who have a coil have given birth, and so it is slightly less painful to fit. But for me, it was like 15 smear tests concentrated into one – of course, there was no pain relief.

When I did eventually marry (not to that boyfriend I was too nervous to talk to about contraception, you’ll be pleased to hear), we weren’t able to conceive because of “unexplained infertility”, and I always wondered if that coil fitting had done something to me internally. When my GP suggested I had a Mirena coil earlier this year, for HRT this time, I burst into tears on simply hearing the word.

Looking back, it seems significant to me that I hadn’t wanted to text my ex and ask him for the 30 quid. This – contraception – felt like a me problem. It was my fault for not remembering to take the pill; it was my fault for not having the money to pay for it.

However much young men’s attitudes change to their responsibilities – and really, they don’t seem to have changed that much – everything sex-related seems ultimately to be a woman’s problem because pregnancy is a devastating burden if not wanted or unsupported. Stigma still stalks single mothers. Chasing support from absent fathers is challenging. There’s a reason the “male pill” has never taken off: no woman would trust it.

Every child should come into the world for good reasons because they are wanted, and not because their mother did not have £30. Maybe those who inevitably attack free contraception will bear that in mind next time they question a woman’s right to choose.