In which male readers are advised to avert their eyes.
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Seriously, boys, move along.
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After Karin was born, I went to the gynecologist to get a review on birth control options and ended up going with an IUD. It hurt to insert (I just said that to myself a couple of times because it rhymes) but was totally awesome afterwards because DUDE not only was there no chance of getting pregnant again but it pretty much deleted my menstrual cycle.
Not something I’ve missed either, I can say, since it used to be crampy and horrible. There are 2 kinds of IUDs available in Sweden: a “regular” copper one and a hormone-drop version. I can’t remember and don’t care what the benefits or advantages were for either one, but I took the hormone-drop option. This was, mind you, the same year Karin was born: 1999. The doctor gave me a lot of info but the end result was that I went home with a foreign object inside me (having just gotten rid of one some months earlier in the form of my daughter! har!) and complete freedom in regards to carefree, though strictly marital (hi honey!), sex.
I had made a mental note that the IUD was good for 10 years and sometime this year, when Karin turned 8, I thought maybe I should just check to make sure that was actually the case and the next time I was called to the gyndoc I’d remember to ask. That was last week, when I went in for a regular pap checkup. After everything was…um, back in order I casually asked the doctor about the IUDs and was there anything I needed to do even though it was not really time yet to worry about it. I know it’s good for 10 years but that’s creeping up now, as my daughter is 8.5?
“What kind do you have?” she asked me. “The hormone-drip one,” I answered.
She gave me a perplexed look. “Are you sure?”
“Oh yes,” I said. I gave her the name and said that I had had really irregular cycles since I got it, basically not menstruated for years, though it had been gradually coming back in the past, oh, 12 months or so.
“Those are only good for FIVE years,” she said.
COMMENCE MAJOR BOGGLING FREAK-OUT IN WHICH I REALIZE I COULD HAVE BEEN PREGNANT SEVERAL DOZEN TIMES OVER IN THE PAST 2.5 YEARS
“Of course,” she added, “just the presence of the IUD probably acted as a deterrent, but still…”
*pause while Liz hyperventilates*
So I immediately scheduled another appointment a week later (today) to get the old one removed and replaced. I had remembered how much it hurt to insert (twice!) but had forgotten the painful crampy aftermath. Bleargh.
And that concludes the only journal post EVER in which I talk about my private parts and sex and menstruation all at once. Now back to your regularly scheduled carefree sex!
Note to self: When Karin turns 13, it’s replacement time again, always presuming the CHANGE OF LIFE hasn’t pre-empted things. 13 — NOT 15 because it has a five in it. 13 — NOT 18 because it’s 10 years from now. THIRTEEN, YOU MATH-IMPAIRED IDJIT.
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Bursting With Belated BellyBean Birthday Wishes to americantjej!