cw: blood, sexual trauma and assault induced ptsd, and vagina talk
guys, i don’t know what’s going on with my body anymore. i mean, have i ever? as we know, i have vagina issues– there’s no other way to put it! vagina issues, i’ve got ‘em!!!! i’m not going to stop writing about my vagina, and you can’t stop me! i’ve been dealing with chronic yeast infections and other reproductive messiness for a little over two years (and if i’m honest and/or self aware i’d admit that it’s been longer than that!) a few months back i was desperate for a solution for the yeasties. i talked to my obgyn and she advised i get off of the birth control pill and try a non-hormonal alternative, in this case a copper iud. so i did. i kind of didn’t know what i was getting myself into. let’s talk about it.
they didn’t tell me much when i agreed to do it. my doctor didn’t get into it when she had initially recommended it to me. didn’t give me a sheet of paper with information on it or nothin’. on the day of the procedure they asked me what my periods were like and i said “eh, they last about four to five days, medium flow” and they were like “okay, yeah, so it’s going to get a lot heavier than that and for much longer.” i’m sorry! what! right before she shoved that shit in my uterus my doctor asked if i had taken an ibuprofen beforehand and i hadn’t because no one told me! i didn’t watch any tiktoks about it because i didn’t want to have a panic attack. i didn’t do any googling or youtubing because every person that has an iud says the insertion process was the most excruciating thing they’ve ever had to experience. i didn’t want to psych myself out! if i had to do anything to prepare, the doctor should have warned my ass! an automated text, an email, anything!
“so how was the procedure, jules?” thank you for asking, baby. it was awful, horrible, no good. it triggered my ptsd enough to make me cry in the room for about 10 minutes. it was so bad i had to take an almost four hour nap afterwards just so i didn’t have to be awake for the pain. don’t ask me if you should get one! i won’t know what to say!
side note: they have to measure your uterus before they insert it and a) that hurts worse than the actual insertion, and b) my doctor told me my uterus is 8 cm in case anyone asks. why doesn’t anyone ask? i want to share.
i’ve had this iud since february, and guess what? my period has gotten worse! the days aren’t longer, but the flow is bad, guys. i’m changing my pad1 every two hours, i bled through one of my favorite jeans. here’s the kicker: that’s not the worst part. the cramps were pretty tough for the first month or so, but they went away with time. the big thing is that since getting this lil bundle of copper i’ve been dizzy, lightheaded, tired, and have had massive headaches. this is especially true immediately before, during, and after my period. so, like, most of the month. i've also been getting really cold for some reason. my head spins if i stand up too quick or bend over too far. something odd has been happening and i needed some kind of non-medical validation before calling my doctor and risk sounding like a dramatic idiot.
i met a girl at a party last month and we had gotten on the topic of birth control. i mentioned i had recently gotten a copper iud and she said “oh yeah i got mine taken out, i’m still dealing with the anemia from it.” huh? bells were ringing in my ears! i immediately started spewing off my symptoms and she told me they were exactly what she had. i talked to my doctor and she ordered blood tests for me. i’m going this week, i promise! in this time since discovering the fact that i might be anemic now, i started taking iron supplements. some days they work and some days they don’t. i don’t know the dosage, don’t ask. i went to cvs and grabbed the first bottle i saw. why are vitamins so expensive? also, these pills make my shit black as night. does that mean they’re working?
thinking back to when i first got my period, my flow was so bad i’d almost faint. my mom used to bleed so much during her cycle that she had to get some procedure done that could’ve made her unable to have kids, but didn’t, heyoo! you know, i called my mom and told her about all of this. i described my symptoms and she went “oh yeah, i’m anemic!” girl what? why didn’t you ever mention that? you know what she said? “you didn’t ask.” girl i KNOW you DID NOT JUST. she’s reading this. rosa, you’re on my shit list for that one. happy belated birthday! xoxo
now, sure i can be frustrated, scared, or even angry about the fact that i wasn’t informed any of this before i got an iud. was it my own responsibility to look into what this little plastic-copper thing was going to do to my body before having a very nice young woman with purple hair insert it through my cervix into my uterus? sure! two things can be true! i’m an adult! if i’m going to make decisions that can affect both my health and physical well-being, the least i can do is 10-minute googling session. i can admit my faults and mishaps, but isn’t it also the doctor’s responsibility to communicate some of this before the actual procedure? don’t i at deserve a sit-down-chit-chat about what this can do to my body, what the pros and cons are, any potential risks or weird side-effects? what happened to pamphlets? bring them back!
a little while back i wrote something for my friend avery’s substack about my vagina and how i’m kind of like miss girl from teeth in the way that i don’t really know what’s going on down there. i talked about how in a lot of cases, specifically regarding vaginal care, people of color aren’t believed, cared for, or even listened to by doctors as often or as seriously as their white counterparts. this is particularly applicable to Black people. i began to have issues with my vag when i started having sex, and even then i didn’t feel like my obgyn was communicating with me effectively or taking my concerns to heart. i didn’t feel like i was given the tools to really know what was going on with my body until the symptoms got bad enough to warrant treatment and diagnosis. i was 19 when this was happening, so suffice it to say this made me develop anxiety around going to the obgyn at all, for fear that i’ll be brushed off or told that my problem isn’t real or as bad as it may seem. add in some sexual assault and trauma and all of a sudden i was i avoiding the obgyn entirely. it would eventually turn out i would have to get over it soon. i have seen about 6 different obgyns over the last two years for the same problems. all very nice women! didn’t get the same answer twice, though! why don’t we all know enough about vaginas? and why aren’t we all on the same page about it?
now, you may also be curious as to whether or not i’m going to keep this lil guy. the answer is yes. does that make this essay redundant now? i hope not! it lasts 12 years and has helped with the yeasties. if i can paint you any picture i’ll paint you this: having iud-induced anemia is better than having as many yeast infections as i’ve had. at least with anemia i can take iron supplements and actually feel in control of my body. bloodwork is different than a pelvic exam. in some cases, particularly mine, i know a blood test result will make for a better case over some unknown, strange complication. i’ve come to learn that vagina studies are subjective when a doctor doesn’t know what’s going on, doesn’t listen to your issues, or would rather dismiss you over getting to the root of the problem. at least with anemia i can have a word for what i’m dealing with, and a word means definitive treatment. sad, huh? something to think about.
in summary, if i could describe my vagina i’d say it was an immovable force with its own weather patterns and gravitational pull. we can neither control nor understand it. it’s also very pretty. i know you were wondering!
i’m a pad girl! certified, verified, notarized!