*ALERT: this may be highly unsettling. You may feel like we’re way too close after this read. Proceed with caution.*
Well technically has been happening to me for the past three days. I got my period.
Are you aware of what a period is. Your uterus sluffs off its outer lining and shoves it down your vaginal canal and all the way through your cervix and out of your (my) vagina. Sick huh. YEAH TELL ME ABOUT IT. Well me and every other woman in the world.
A year and a half ago I got this bitter sweet little chunk of medical grade plastic and 52 mg of levonorgestrel were *placed* on the dark side of my cervix.
There she is.
Today J asked me if I took that little thingy off. I mean, yeah, it is basically like a pair of socks. I just wear it according to my outfits 🙂
Full disclosure, deciding to get an IUD was a complex decision for me. I read all of the medical literature. Read far too many first hand accounts of horror stories that google had to offer. Watched many a video chronicles of women’s Mirena experience (yeah that’s a thing). I also did that thing that everyone tells you to do, consult your doctor. Granted my OBGYN is the man of my dreams and I would blindly follow him into the dark, he was objective but reassuring. Over 2 million American women have these in their lady bits right this moment. Here’s an informative article that give all of the nitty gritty details on the FDA registered complaints on the Mirena.
I’m not going to pretend for a moment that having this damn thing has been a particularly pleasant experience. It turns out that I have a retroverted uterus and so could you 🙂 . Between 1 and 3-5 women have one. It only means that instead of tilting slightly forward (as is the norm) it tilts backwards. I learned this fun fact when Dr. McDreamy was elbows deep in my vaginal canal trying to install my hardware. It was absolutely excruciating. I say this as someone who’s got a seriously high pain threshold. I’ve never had a medical professional apologize so profusely before in my life, even that one time that they almost let me baby die (that sounded shitty, I’m not actually pointing fingers, medical issues happen but so does medical negligence).
Here’s a cute and cuddly version of how your uterus could be angled, I wish mine looked like balloon animals instead of reality. Brace yo self.
This is the super cleaned up version, it’s a lot more blood and guts in real life. What a cute pink elephant we house.
Normally it just feels like a “pinch” and some cramping so they say. Mine was really bad. They gave me a prescription for painkillers after. That’s not protocol. It was really painful for a few weeks. They had me come back in for a sonogram to make sure that the little trucker was going to stay put. It did. Well mostly. I’m not certain that it has actually ever really been in there right. None of us were certain that I was a ‘good candidate’ for it in the first place. But once I commit to something being shoved through my cervix I’d like to keep it around for a while. The last case of that is six years old and shows no signs of going anywhere for quite some time.
Here’s the rub. [Now this is a personal account. Plenty of women have rather delightful experiences with their IUD’s.]
-It hurt like a mo’ fo’.
-I bleed for a really long time. May, June and half of July. That’s not normal. But, hey I’m a giver.
-It feels like there’s a really big nose sticking out from my cervix, more so than a normal cervix. It has been referred to as a picket fence. Who want’s my number now??? Huh? No takers, weird.
– The first 7 months of having this thing was absolute hell. My hormones were out of control. I was a total emotional roller coaster every day. Think like the week before your period but always. Yeah, that’s not good for anyones mental health.
– I can feel that little bugger. Sometimes when I sit funny, or you know just randomly something gives me a little poke just to remind me that infertility comes at a cost.
-It was free (my insurance paid for it), shout out to healthcare reform. Turns out that full coverage of contraceptives is one of the best things that have happened to American women in quite some time.
-I’m baby free (well except for the preexisting child). That’s no added perk. That’s the point. For 5 years I can let it rain spermatozoa and look at that no fertilized eggs. Ohhhhh sweet sweet science.
-If I decided today that I want to have a baby and continued to think that was a good idea until the soonest appointment with my gyno to take it out I could do so. In a couple of months I could welcome bouncing baby Heikes part 2 into this world. Probably—- our fertility isn’t guaranteed I know this, but mine could use some curbing so I’m good with the risks.
-This amamammamammmmmazing thing happened almost a year ago. I never got another period. Sure there were plenty of semi-terified moments of ohhhh shiz what if I’m pregnant. Then the ensuing google searches of entropic pregnancies. That’s an ugly set of hypothetical circumstances. It just turns out that I’m one of the 20% of women who stop having their period after the first year. (That’s a conservative estimate, because a high percentage of Mirena users have it removed in the first year…. see the con’s list).
– Major pro all of the skrilla that I’ve saved in the past year on ‘feminine products’. Seriously, it’s no small chunk of change. It’s probably close to $200 on tampons alone. Plus all of the acetometiphine that stayed on the shelf. And the wine and chocolate. Those are real health related expeinces when you want to kill everyone and your uterus feels like it’s being stabbed a million times a day for 5 days straight. That’s a real thing.
I imagine that it looks a little something like this in there:
Well until this week. The bear and the sword are back. Please don’t stay long, no one likes you.
Google said to me today: “2/3 of women are interested in stopping their period.” No shit. Count me in.