write a page in which you describe how access to birth control affects or does not affect your family planning options

Length:1- 2 pages (Papers outside this range will lose points); Times New Roman, 12 pts., 1.5 spacing After reading “A Better Place”, in the Summer 2014 edition of MS Magazine, write a page in which you describe how access to birth control affects or does not affect your family planning options. Be sure to discuss the issue in relationship to the short story. Very Important: Please note that this is a full-length paper. It must therefore have an introduction, coherently organized body of paragraphs (with appropriate transitional words, phrases or sentences) and a conclusion. You do not need to include a reference page since I know the source of your information. An “A” paper will comprehensively and clearly address all aspects of this assignment. In her latest book and first memoir, Not for Everyday Use, Trinidad-born novelist Elizabeth Nunez weaves her personal and family history into the four-day period from when she learned her mother was dying through her trip home for the funeral. In this excerpt, she recalls her mother's dutiful Catholic opposition to birth control, which led to 14 pregnancies. My sister Judith is at the airport. She has come in from St. Vincent, where she lives with her husband, Ian, and her three children, Simone, Paige and Cristine. By coincidence, our planes have landed within minutes of each other. My sister is punching numbers on an ATM machine. She is alone; her husband and children have not traveled with her. I call out to her and she waves, but she does not come toward me; she returns to the machine and punches more numbers before she turns back again and walks swiftly to me. We embrace. A kiss on the cheek, our arms enclosing each other in the second of that kiss. No tears. We are not a weepy family. We are Nunezes. We have been taught to keep our emotions in check. Emotions can be dangerous; they can derail you. But men and women who have survived marriages to my siblings have learned not to mistake our restraint for lack of commitment. One could get scorched coming too close to the firewall we build around each other. My sister is an actuary; she deals in facts, in numbers that tell her the objective truth: how long a man may live; how much should be expended to keep him alive. She tells me the objective truth now. Our mother did not make it through the night. I wanted to hold my mother's hand, even if she could not speak. There was so much I wanted to tell her, so many years, so many blank pages between us since I left her home and my homeland for America, a mere teenager. I had been hoping she would be alive when I got to the hospital. I say this to my sister. "The doctor proposed life support," my sister says, "but Mummy would have been a vegetable. She would not have wanted that. It's better this way." I take in these facts. Still no tears come. I hook my arm in the crook of my sister's arm. She pats my hand briefly and we walk stone-faced toward the line of taxis. My sister is incredibly beautiful. She looks like Halle Berry. She has her huge expressive eyes, high cheekbones, a sculpted face and a wonderful wide smile. Judith is almost 50; she could be taken for 30, an older sister to her daughters. Three children and she still has an iron-board stomach. One child and 30 years later I cannot lose the flab that drapes down at the bottom of my belly. Judith is petite; I am petite, but my sister's breasts, waist and hips are perfectly contoured, her figure that of an iconic James Bond girl, Halle Berry emerging from the sea in an orange bikini. Whenever I tell Judith this, she shrugs, shakes her head and twists her mouth in a wry smile, politely dismissing my compliments as frivolous, inconsequential to her life as a mother and wife. Her world centers on her family, on her daughters and her husband, though she keeps a small part, which she protects fiercely, for her work as one of the few actuaries in the Eastern Caribbean. On the slope beneath the main floor of their house, Ian has built an office for her that opens to the garden and the swimming pool. From there she can do her work and still keep an eye on her daughters. Ian is a wise man. He has known the Nunez family for years, ever since he was a teenager and his wife-to-be was a little girl in pigtails still playing with dolls. He understood the burning ambition sizzling beneath the domestic chatter of the Nunez women. The house he bought for my sister stands on top of a small hill with a magnificent view of the blue Caribbean Sea on one side and verdant cascading hillocks on the other. Judith is sensitive to the history of these hillocks. Once they were plantations where our ancestors were driven mercilessly under a brutal sun to provide the English with luxuries some boast of to this day without reference to their shameful past. …