Things You Should Know About Getting an IUD

I can’t pinpoint the exact reason why I decided to switch to an IUD from the pill, but it might have to do with Instagram reels. Sure, I was sick of having skin the texture and color of an Alaskan Salmon two weeks out of the month, but this summer both my best friend and my mom received breast cancer diagnoses.

Here are things you should know about getting an IUD.

Why Get an IUD?

After wondering how both my mom and best friend received cancer diagnosis in the same summer, this past fall I began a somewhat rational inventory of any behaviors that might have myself ending up in an oncology office. So far, it was having a copper device jammed into my uterus and switching to drip coffee from Keurig coffee because should we be drinking hot coffee that pours through tiny plastic pods? I don’t know, but it seems like an easy way to limit my exposure to microplastics, which is probably futile because that shit is truly everywhere.

While mindlessly scrolling through Instagram one night (or middle of a workday, whatever) I came across a woman pointing at things on a screen set to inappropriate music about the downfalls of hormonal birth control pills. I thought, yes, this will be the next switch, as I sipped/chewed my coffee because my old-ass Mr. Coffee thinks I want my coffee half-filled with grounds.

Using the words of Tuco Salamanca, avoiding breast cancer would be, “Tight! Tight tight tight!”, but I was really stoked about the possibility of an non-hormonal IUD helping my skin settle into pre-pubescent bliss. Sure, I was reducing my chances of developing a horrible disease with an equally horrible treatment, but it was only secondary to the quest of having skin that didn’t sometimes look like it belonged to an iguana.

There will be life-altering pain that will be described as “discomfort”.

Yeah, what the fuck, they really undersold this. The PA warned me beforehand, but I shrugged it off because I “did mY ReSEarch.”, which, admittedly, was googling “why IUD”. But I don’t think she even used the word “pain”. Only “discomfort” and “cramping”. Let’s sum it up this way: I once had a root canal without anesthesia. And I would prefer the root canal over an IUD insertion.

I told them I took a couple ibuprofen beforehand, and they were like, “Oh, good.” Except afterwards I was not “good”; I was a sweaty and dizzy mess trying not to dry heave into my bag. I couldn’t sit up straight and hobbled out to an Uber afterwards looking like I was the hero in a movie trying to hide a gunshot wound to my lower abdomen that would be revealed to my love interest at a later time.

My love interest was out of town, so I just ate a leftover Halloween candy bar that I purposely didn’t put out for trick or treaters (we all have our holiday traditions and this is mine), thinking, “Oh, maybe I’m just hungry.” Like a miniature Mounds bar was going to right this wrong. Instead, I threw up when I got home from the pain.

My best friend was like, “Are you just being a total pussy?” and I was like, “Bitch, no. I tried to sleep it off as soon I got home. But my body made me projectile vomit because it was like “I can’t believe you did this voluntarily, we’re going to fix this, this was clearly a mistake like the time you chugged two bottles of sparkling wine in under an hour.”

Don’t fucking make plans for afterwards!

They literally asked me, while I had my shit hanging out, what I had on the ol’ agenda for the rest of the afternoon. I’m guessing chitchat was their way of distracting me since painkillers or a mallet to my head wasn’t available, for whatever reason, but I really think I simply experienced medical gaslighting.

I admire their compassion and efforts, but it didn’t work, not really. I like the Hopleaf as much anyone else, but I usually prefer talking about my favorite bars when I don’t have barbecue tongs inside me.

Anyway, all you’ll be able to do afterwards is wish for death or lesbianism because ain’t no dick worth that pain. You’ll feel like someone shot you with a spear gun in your gut, punched you in your taint, and finished you off with a baseball bat to both femurs. This will last for many hours and maybe into the next day. So if you have painkillers, take them or ask for them beforehand for the “diSComfoRT” and “CRampING.”

I don’t why I thought it would pain-free. They’re inserting a tiny copper appendage that has goddamn arms into one of my organs. THE ARMS SPRING UP ONCE ITS IN PLACE, like it wants to give my ovaries a group hug.

Your womb is now medically hostile.

Hahaha it true. What I’ve always wanted.

Your first period after will be memorable.

Do you like blood? Because you’re going to see a lot of it. Before I was even fully awake one morning, I had my feet on the floor and running to the bathroom to discover a horror movie within. I woke up from a dead sleep because I felt the waterfall starting. I know that’s common for many women, but not for me. My periods only averaged a teaspoon of blue liquid for 30 seconds and I was always able to go horseback riding in my whitest slacks.

I would absolutely do it all over again.

Hell yes. Pain is temporary, OxyClean gets blood out of everything, and these things last for up to 12 years. Since I’m creeping up on 40, my IUD is going to slingshot me straight into menopause and a house full of cats in the woods somewhere.

But my skin still has the texture of rough timber.

Fuck.

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