ICU, IUC

I’ve been on some form of hormonal birth control for twelve years. The Pill, the NuvaRing, the implant. Disposable packaging. Incremental solutions to an age-old issue. This fall, I decided to switch to a non-hormonal birth control, an intrauterine contraceptive, the IUC (formerly known as the intrauterine device, or IUD).

This post may be TMI but there shouldn’t be anything wrong with talking about birth control. The better prepared we all are, the more we all know, the fewer misconceptions there are about birth control, unintended pregnancies, and how women’s bodies work (see: Republican politicians).

So I decided to get an IUC, the non-hormonal kind. This was long overdue. The benefits of IUCs are many, including:

•  Long lasting (they can stay in place for up to 12 years)
• The lowest rate of pregnancy
• Longer term, they may reduce cramping and lower menstrual flow

When I went on a hormonal BC, I did so because I felt I needed the regularity of my menses, smoother skin, safety of sex without pregnancy, reduced side effects of the dreaded PMS.

Three years ago, after many years of different birth control pills, I tried a longer-lasting method, the implant, a little device that is inserted into the tricep. Every month for 36 months, it released a little bit of estrogen. But it’s a weird concept. I never really felt it – it’s smaller than a tube of chapstick and it was in a place not commonly touched. I didn’t like the side effects I felt it gave me and when I stopped being sexually active with no plans in sight for getting pregnant, it was time for a different method.

So I decided to get an IUC. They've been making a comeback in the birth control world since a nasty recall in the 1970s tarnished its reputation. I wanted protection for the long term. I was sick of disposable packets and remembering to take a pill at the same time every day. I was sick of having my hormones manipulated.

Every woman’s experience with an IUC insertion is different. This is where my story takes shape. I didn’t read other stories until I was on the couch afterwards nursing my bruised ovary “researching” (read: Googling) others’ stories. The gamut was everything from near-death experiences to it being nothing more than a 30-minute inconvenience in an ordinary day.

I had a hard time. My experience was definitely on the side of painful. The T-shaped device gets inserted into the uterus. Doctors recommend taking ibuprofen; I didn’t take it an hour in advance but even so, the insertion was excruciating. There's two bad parts - first when your vaginal channel is measured to make sure the IUC can fit. Then, there's the actual insertion of the IUC. 

The pain in my left ovary was intense. I was nauseous, dizzy, lightheaded for two hours afterwards. Once they finally let me leave the clinic after an hour of rest and guided bathroom trips down the hall, I spent the afternoon on the couch, watching Maron, with ibuprofen and a hot water bottle on my abdomen vacillating between awake and asleep. The pain was worse than any menstrual cramps I’ve ever had, and then some.

I’ll be honest: I still get cramps. My menses is different – very different from regulated hormonal menses – and the flow is greater than I ever remember. But at least it’s my menses on my body’s schedule. And when I’m ready to try getting pregnant, it just needs to come out.

For a more detailed history of the IUC and a more detailed story of its insertion, check out this Jezebel article with links to other articles.