Everything was going along swimmingly this morning during my lady exam with my new gyno. She and I hit it off swell. She’s matter-of-fact, smiley, wears blue scrubs and no makeup, and she’s 7-months pregnant.
As she was acquainting herself with my inside parts, we chatted away, and I said laughingly, “I never check my IUD strings!! I know I should, but hahaha, I can never bring myself to do it!!” To which she said, “Oh, hahaha, I should check those strings!!” And then, “Hmmm, these actually feel a little low.”
A new speculum was rounded up, and I was cranked open again. My new friend felt around and reported, “Yeahhhhh, actualllllly this IUD is partially expelled. It has to come out.”
Thinking this would happen at some point down the road after I’d been allowed time to become seriously freaked out and anxious, I asked, “How is that going to feel? Because getting this IUD inserted was the absolute worst thing that has ever happened to me. Ever.”
The gyno didn’t miss a beat and said, “I hear ya – I felt the same way. But this won’t hurt much. Just a little cramping.”
Because I’m aware that “just a little cramping” is code for “you will feel like I just punched you in the cervix and then stuck a fork in it,” I started to prepare to work myself into a sweaty, nervous mess.
But before I could ask more hard-hitting questions such as, “will I be left alone in a room while I bleed from my cervix?” the gyno announced, “okay, here we go!”
To which I yelled, “YOU’RE TAKING IT OUT RIGHT NOW???”
“Yes. Okay, here we go!”
Surprised by the comparative lack of pain, I exclaimed, “hey, that wasn’t so bad!” Which was quickly followed by, “oh, wait, there’s the cramping.”
She showed me my IUD buddy, but I didn’t have my wits gathered to request a photo shoot. So here’s a stock image of a Paragard IUD next to a dirty dime. It is small and mighty, but apparently no match for my body’s ability to expel foreign objects.