This Mother’s Day, buy her the gift that will prevent a surprise “gift”.

I’ve been trying to think of a gentle slightly censored way to start this entry for (checking timer on microwave to see how many minutes have passed since I put the cake in the oven.) 18 minutes now and I’ve decided there is no gentle, slightly censored way to say this so I’m just gonna say it:

Matt and I feel that we have mastered the art of baby making and would like to try our hands at not making babies.

Hey! I did it! That was both gentle and slightly censored. I didn’t use the term fucking once. Aw, shit.

Moving on.

I’ve done the pill thing for many years. I like the pill. I’ve used different kinds and only had a real problem with one kind that I don’t remember the name of. For the most part, no issues with taking The Pill. Except for the occasional forgotten pill followed by a double dose followed by horrible pregnancy scares.

Let me tell you, when you’re living on a slightly unbalanced but surviving budget the thought of another child will keep you up at night. And if you’re anything like me, you’ll keep the possibility away from your husband or at least downplay it with a casual, “So, yeah, I’m about 5 days late. No period. But I know I’m not pregnant. Can’t be.” Then one night around 2:30 you whisper to your husband, “what if I am pregnant.” and his face is glowing in the light of the moon he has become so pale. Eventually though he falls asleep while you spend the next hour trying to figure out who’s going to stay home with the kids during the day and get the third shift job because there is no way you’re going to make your MIL watch 5 kids. On the way to work later that morning you stop and get a pregnancy test and jump for joy in the stall at your work when you see the negative result. The following day you set up an appointment to chat with Dr. Bowtie about other options of birth control and start researching exactly what is the procedure for getting your tubes tied and almost convince yourself that that’s the way to go.

Yes, I am speaking from personal experience.

No, I’m not getting my tubes tied.

This past monday I met with Dr. Bowtie and I told him that my husband and I are completely 100% certain we do not want any more babies. I also told him that while the pill is great and everything, I can’t deal with another pregnancy scare or forgotten pill. For chrissakes I called Jonas “Jaden” three times yesterday. It’s a miracle I’ve only missed *mumble number of* pills this year. And while Tubal Ligation is an option, I just feel like I’m too young for such a drastic measure. We still don’t want babies and don’t see that changing, it’s just that, dude, I’m 28.

So that was my list: no babies, don’t want to remember to take something, no tubes tying, and covered by insurance.

Dr. Bowtie recommended the Mirena IUD.

It was kind of like going to Microcenter, telling Head Geek what you want in a laptop and him saying, “Well, we’ve got this model here that’s exactly what you’re looking for and it’s in your price range.”

The Quick Facts: it’s a plastic T-shaped device that’s implanted in my uterus that the body (rightfully) identifies as a foreign object and throws a bunch of white blood cells at it. These white blood cells end up sticking to any sperm that may pass by weighing it down and preventing it from getting any eggs looking for a good time. There are small amounts of progesterone that act as a “back up” birthcontrol by keeping the lining of the uterus thin so should a whiley sperm have its way with an egg, the egg will have no where to implant and will just…well, y’know, exit). The Mirena is 99% effective (The Pill: 95%. I was shocked to hear this. I thought The Pill was 98%.) and it lasts for 5 years.

Dr. Bowtie said it’s the most cost effective form of birth control out there (cost break is at 2 years.) and it’s his most recommended form for women like me who are still young, have children already, don’t want more and don’t want to have to remember a pill or a shot. He said the only thing you have to get passed is the fact that you have a piece of plastic in your uterus. “People wear glasses or earrings,” he said as a point and I said, “This is just jewelry for my uterus.” He laughed and agreed with me. I hope he uses that on his future patients because it certainly worked for me.

I decided this was the thing was the way to go. Dr. Bowtie brought me a sample of a Mirena inside a cross section of a uterus in a petri dish. Ew. Ok, it was all plastic. It was a plastic cross section of a plastic uterus in a plastic petri dish. It wasn’t even a pertri dish. It was the size of a petri dish but looked like a uterus mold with a real IUD in it. (I suddenly had a vision of my kids pressing blue play-doh into a uterus mold.)

Anyway, it looked like this:

mirena-iud

Tiny, right? And almost cute with its bright green and red colors. Then Dr. Bowtie opened his big mouth, “Now the real thing is white all over. This is just for demonstration so don’t worry, you won’t have neon plastic in your uterus.” I was not quiet about my disappointment, “Oh man. I was all excited about the colors. There aren’t any designer colored IUDs?” He laughed and appologized that colors weren’t an option.

Here’s the real thing:

mirena-iud ACTUAL

Man, do I ever want the red and green one.

Regardless, I still set up an appointment to have it inserted.  Today I left work early, went home and did a quick “grooming”. Is it just me, ladies, or does it seem like you’re preparing for a date whenever you head to the gyno? Part of me is all, “Girl, I’m sure he’s seen worse. Your lady parts are fine.” But then the other day Nurse was telling me about how she was admiring a woman’s pedicure while she was up in the stirrups. It was really funny but it just drilled in my paranoia even more. Should I get a pedicure? A Brazillian? Can those be done at the same place? Why am I worried about this? I can’t afford a pedicure right now! And why should my gyno get Brazillian treatment when my husband doesn’t even get that?? I think I just shared too much.

Speaking of sharing too much, I have a friend who recently had an IUD put in. She was much less candid her blog about it than I will be. Well, you people should be used to that.

At the doctor’s office, Nurse handed me a piece of paper called a “consent form” which detailed the proceedure and then asked me to sign. I can’t remember the exact wording but I did mention to Nurse that “single tooth clamp on cervix never sounds good.” She gave a nervous chuckle then explained what that was all about. Something about opening the cervix and pulling my uterus straight. My eyes must’ve gotten huge because she nervously laughed again and assured me that while it may be a little uncomfortable it sounds much worse than it is and she’s had two IUDs with no issues. And I’ll experience some cramping, like a strong menstrual cramp or contraction. She left me alone after that to digest everything before I signed the consent. At that point my brain split into two camps: “The I’m a Wuss! I can’t do this!” Camp and the “Girl, you pushed two giant humans out of that same hoo-ha. You can so do this!” Camp.

Really, it was the thought of having to push a third giant human out of my hoo-ha that pushed me completely into that camp. Flash forward to me on the table, legs in stirrups. After the uterus pulling (“Actually, you’re pretty straight already.” “Good job, me!”) and sticking a metal stick thing in to get a sound on my uterus? (Later I tried explaining it to my husband but since I never actually saw the thing all I could suggest was, “I don’t know, like a tuning fork or something?” “Your uterus is in the key of C.” “No, he said I was a 7 so that’s, what? Key of D?”) he turned to change gloves and get the mirena at which point I made the following observation:

“I feel like a car.”

Dr. Bowtie and Nurse: “What?”

Me: “I feel like a car all up on the things.”

Nurse: “The hoists?”

Me: “Sure, those. All up in the air while you guys get the spare parts ready.”

I use humour a lot to get through things. Apparently that was the first time they’d heard that metaphor which I thought was weird because I think about that nearly every time I’m on the table.

Anyway, right after that he put the Mirena in. The whole thing took about 3 minutes and honestly? I barely felt anything except a cramp right when he put it in. I didn’t feel any single toothed clamps or straightening of the uterus. I guess I was picturing him pulling it down, kinda like pulling ones’ socks up. But now that I think about it, that makes no sense.

It’s a damn good thing I’m not a doctor.

It sucked for a couple hours, cramp-wise, but it’s been a few hours since the whole procedure now and I’m barely cramping now.

Happy Mother’s Day to me! In the tradition of naming one’s IUD (thanks, Toots!) I’m going to call this one Prudence and instead of singing “Won’t you come out to play?” I’ll sing, “Don’t give me a babay.”

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2 Responses

  1. we both know why i didn’t publish my candid experience. my fears and associations with someone fiddling with my cervix brought up far different memories for me than they did for you. i’m so jealous your cramps went away so fast. goddamnit.

    let me know how your first period is. i hear with the mirena, they’ll eventually go away. with mine? i changed my super-sized tampon 6 times in one day. this coming from a girl who’s never replaced that condensed piece of cotton more than twice. you do the math.

  2. Yeah, Dr. Bowtie said they’ll either lighten and shorten to 2-3 days or go away all together. I have to wonder why you didn’t go with the Mirena. Perhaps we should chat more off line. 🙂

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