To play devil’s advocate here for just a minute…
There’s another side to this coin. It’s not always an aspect of “I need to be able to have sex with whatever guy wants it”; women enjoy sex, too, and sometimes NFP can be really, really burdensome.
As a fer-instance: according to my OB, it’s very likely that another pregnancy will have to be our last because of medical issues on my part. That will mean using only a shortened Phase III for about 20-25 years, depending on when menopause hits. As a result, DH and I are facing a couple of decades of being able to be together perhaps once or twice a month, with occasional stretches of abstinence for 2-3 months at a time when all the signs and tests don’t line up.
DH doesn’t want me to go on birth control, mind you, and I’m not going to. But if I were, it wouldn’t be because if I didn’t, DH would develop a porn habit/leave me/what-have-you. It would be because I love my husband and want to have sex with him more often than what I’ve described. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see the allure of, on the face of it:
–not having to worry about not being able to pee for two 4-hour stretches during the day for a week of each cycle in order to ensure accurate testing;
–not having to stress about the time it takes to check CM multiple times/day, and how to manage that while juggling a toddler who wants to follow me into the bathroom and discuss what’s going on;
–not having to worry about whether exercising will mess with any of the observations I need to make;
–not having to, once we have been together, worry that NFP will fail us again. It did once, and if I’d gotten pregnant (as I should have), baby and I could have died. Given what we know now, we almost certainly would have.
–being able to actually enjoy having sex. At the risk of going rather TMI, I don’t enjoy sex unless I’ve had it recently–it’s like my body needs to figure out what to do. Once or twice a month? I like the closeness and the intimacy, but on a sexual level…meh. Throw in the added stress of “if I don’t enjoy it this time, it’ll still be another month before we can do this again anyway” and I can forget about it.
It’s really, really sad that I find myself hoping just a bit that I’ll hemorrhage enough with the next baby that I’ll need an emergency hysterectomy, or that I’ll develop uterine or ovarian cancer for the same treatment.
None of that discounts the Church’s reasoning on birth control, which I still agree with, but it’s not always so cut-and-dried as “I wanna go out clubbing and pick up any guy I see, and birth control lets me do that!” I don’t think you were necessarily implying that, either, but I did want to offer another perspective.