I got an IUD...

... and it was a shockingly pleasant experience

Spoiler alert: Everybody involved was a woman.

I had waited for the appointment for months. For the first time in my life, I would be talking to a female doctor who specialized in the area I had problems in: my reproductive health. As soon as I spoke to my new gynecologist, I noticed a difference.
Unlike the multiple male doctors I had consulted about my disruptive perimenopausal symptoms (very heavy bleeding, extreme bloating, painful periods, increased cramping, terrible mood swings), she didn’t look at me helplessly and shrugged “well, that’s normal for your age – do you get night sweats?”, but listened and then said: “Let’s find out what’s causing this.” I wanted to cry with relief. After years of being dismissed for my ever worsening perimenopause symptoms, on top of having PMDD that’s less predictable than ever thanks to my wildly fluctuating hormones, talking to a doctor about my symptoms had become a disheartening experience.
They made me feel like a complainer who should just get a grip and pull herself together. After all, it was “normal” what I was going through! Every woman went through perimenopause – why was I making such a fuss about it?

My new doctor listened patiently to me, and when I was finished she told me what she would like to do: a hysteroscopy to examine the inside of my uterus to look for any possible causes for my symptoms (i.e. fibroids, polyps, or something else); and the insertion of an IUD to reduce/eliminate my periods and the associated pain and, hopefully, the emotional upheaval.

As soon as she mentioned the IUD, I froze. I was absolutely terrified of them, having heard countless stories from women over the years about how utterly horrific the insertion process was. I always thanked my lucky stars that I would never need to get one due to my husband’s vasectomy. And now this nice, new doctor wanted to put one in me anyway?!
Before I could voice my concerns, she told me something that changed EVERYTHING: “The hysteroscopy is quite unpleasant, so I’m doing it under sedation. The IUD would be placed while you’re still sedated, so you wouldn’t feel any discomfort.”

“Really?” I cried out in relief. “That would be amazing!” We discussed the pros and cons of the IUD, and she assured me that we would try something else should it not work, or make my symptoms worse.

I can’t tell you how much it means to find a doctor who doesn’t downplay the painfulness of a procedure. How many times have we heard that “it’s just a pinch,” when it actually feels like your insides are being ripped out? Female pain is so normalized that the medical establishment has routinely done many procedures on women without pain relief they would never do on men, because of the mistaken assumption that women are “better with pain”. I personally don’t believe that for a second – I think we have to be because we’re rarely being given a choice. The fact that women go through pregnancy and labour has been used as a benchmark for all other pain – “this isn’t nearly as bad as giving birth” – as if suffering pain is a completely acceptable and expected part of being a women.

I’m guilty of it myself. I used to routinely assist during hysterosalpingograms, a medical imaging procedure where dye is being injected into the uterus and fallopian tubes to check for blockages. If asked how painful it is, most doctors used the old favourite “just some mild pain or discomfort” to describe the level of pain. I’ve witnessed close to a hundred women going through this procedure, and for many it was a lot more unpleasant than “mild pain”. But instead of being sympathetic, I caught myself thinking that they should just pull themselves together – after all, they did this test because they wanted to get pregnant, and giving birth would be a lot more painful than a few cramps. See how they get us?!
Patriarchy-1, Miriam-0.

Anyway. Last Thursday was the big day. I get nervous easily, and that day was no exception. In fact, I got so anxious as I was getting changed (and had to insert a suppository where the sun don’t shine, which momentarily overwhelmed me) that I almost fainted. I got lightheaded and extremely nauseous, and a faint ringing in my ears told me that I had about five seconds to get back to my stretcher or the nurses would have to wipe me off the floor. I staggered back, mumbled “I feel like passing out”, and the staff sprang to action. They put my head down, checked my blood pressure (100/50), started an IV, and were incredibly kind, understanding, and caring. One of the nurses called over “is it us?”, which made me laugh. It wasn’t them, but the situation; I couldn’t even say what I was nervous about, just that I was. Anxiety is like that – the unknown is incredibly unsettling.

I did some deep breathing exercises and started to feel better. The doctor came over to check on me and introduce herself, and the nurses kept a close eye on me. When it came time to start the procedure I was calm; I felt safe. As soon as I laid down on the table they gave me sedation, and I don’t remember anything else. I’ve never had sedation before, but let me tell you, I’m a big fan! Beats the hell out of the alternative.

I slept on and off for the rest of the day, and was back to normal the very next morning. So far I’ve had barely any pain or bleeding and no complications. It’s too soon to tell how the IUD will affect my perimenopause- and PMDD-symptoms, but I’m optimistic. It was a 10/10 experience – if I would have known that it can be like that, I would have done it years ago!

I share this to add a positive experience to the staggering pile of negative experiences I’ve heard. A caring doctor who takes pain relief seriously makes all the difference!

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