rethink my contraception

been put onto a new pill called ‘Yasmin’
hopefully it will agree with me more than the other horrible pill

i hate the pill so much
messes with my hormones too much

i need to go to the doctors and have a rethink of my contraception before i kill someone

After years and years of stuffing myself with hormones, I quit my trusted “Cilest” about 2 months ago. I say trusted because I took it since I was 17. I’ve had never had any real trouble with the pill, don’t know if my waves of depression had anyhting to do with it or not since I was always and ever on the same pill. Once I stopped taking it and ended up with a cyst in my first pill-free cycle, which prompted my gyneacologist to suggest I should go back on it. I did and presto!, no more problems. But now that I’m past 30 and have a child wish, I am less inclined to keep telling my body that I am pregnant when I’m not. I am not keen on heart problems and thrombosis, and een if I quit smoking, I’ve figured that I am better off without the pill. Also, I don’t know my adult self without extra hormones, and it’s always fun to get to know myself better ;o).
My lad knows about all of this and has suggested to stop taking the pill a few times. We can’t have kids at this point in our lives, so new contraception has been considered (especially reading a lot of threads/thoughts on this goal), and after a open talk with my sister (recently-turned-mom), I have decided to try temperature/cervix in combo with good old durex. During the first months, I am still shaky with both temperature and cervix, but I guess it takes practise and experience and I shouldn’t be too impatient. My first pill-free cycle lasted 44 days, and now I am simply curious what my body decides to do.

The family planning clinic was running late yesterday, so we spent an hour in the waiting room. Ironically, it was full of gorgeous babies and cute kiddies – talk about a kick to the womb considering my previous post on the subject. When the doctor, turned up I was relieved to see it was the lovely one that I’ve seen before, and not the judgmental harridan from the previous Friday. On a whim, I decided to ask her about the IUS instead of the IUD. I told her of my concerns with having too many hormones floating around my bloodstream, but she confirmed what many of you have said – the IUS has one sixth of the hormones of my current pill, and they go pretty much straight to where they’re needed. She told me that side effects are usually limited to a bit of bloating and sore breasts and while people do have them removed because of hormonal side effects, it’s very rare. And the lightened periods everyone keeps singing about sound like menstrual heaven compared with the scrapey painful Carrie-esque bloodletting disturbances IUD wearers apparently suffer.

So on a whim, and after a quick confab with the fella, I decided to go with the IUS. Both doctors and the nurse thought I’d made the right choice and told me I could always have it taken out later. Bless them, they were lovely throughout the whole experience – the nurse was holding my hand and stroking my hair soothingly while the doctor, um, forced foreign bodies through my cervix. I’ll not lie to you, the insertion hurt quite a lot, though not as much as last time. They resorted to using a numbing gel in the end, and it still hurt enough for me to go “Ow!” and instinctively jerk my pelvis away, but the anticipation was probably the worst thing. All in all there were probably only five main twinges and it was over. Since then I’ve had a bit of cramping, and a bit of bleeding, but nothing painkillers couldn’t deal with if I could remember to take them.

I guess technically I should check this off now, as I’ve successfully rethought my contraception. Whether or not I’ve made a wise move remains to be seen, but I’m hopeful. And one sixth of the hormones currently making me fat, spotty, depressed and broody sounds like a bloody good idea.

I just had an email from my mum telling me that yet another acquaintance from my younger days has just had a baby. That’s two this week. And here’s me taking the day off to have an IUD put in, while all the nurses at work tell me to hurry up and get on with this motherhood lark because my clock is ticking.

I know my fucking clock is ticking. It’s ticking so hard I can practically feel it pulsing inside me. I feel like the crocodile in Peter Pan. What, do they think I’m unaware time’s against me? Do they think I’m putting it off on purpose, some kind of “selfish career woman” the papers are always on about, expected science to do the work for me once I hit 45 and tire of my high-flying job? Have they forgotten that it’s not just my choice? Good god, I’d pop one out right now at my desk if my circumstances permitted.

I only hope that at least some of this desperation is caused by my having ingested more hormones than I would have in my body by nature, and that expelling some of them will make it ease off a bit and enable these thoughts to move further towards the back of my mind. Because as much as I try to do what Mum told me, to forget it for now, and to concentrate on being thankful for what I do have that so many people don’t, to put the issue on the back burner for the sake of not sabotaging that, there are days when I cry and cry and hope no one sees me so I don’t have to explain, and I would give up every last scrap of it to hold my baby in my arms.

I went to the family planning clinic the other day and explained to the nurse why the pill wasn’t working for me – spots, weight gain, broodiness, constant crying and depression, exhaustion. I told her that I didn’t think hormonal contraception (meaning the pill) was for me, cos every time I’ve been on it has corresponded to a time of depression for me, and that I wanted to try another IUD.

She really wasn’t keen. She said “Is there any reason why you can’t be on the combined pill?” Like, duh, yes – spots, weight gain, broodiness, constant crying and depression, exhaustion. Weren’t you listening? God, they’re so desperate to be shoving hormones down our necks. It can’t be healthy. It must be cheap. She read my notes and said that last time I had my IUD removed cos of “excessive bleeding”, which isn’t at all how I remember it – from what I recall, there was some bleeding but mainly I had it removed cos, emotionally and physically, it felt like something that shouldn’t be there was in there, but it seems like the NHS doesn’t recognise and record non-tangible reasons. I know I’m meant to be grateful for my free healthcare but, God, they make me mad sometimes. I’m still a customer, dammit.

She took a little pursuading, but she eventually agreed to let me have another IUD fitted, providing I gave it a longer go this time. She said it was a waste of NHS money to have them take it out again as soon as they did last time and I’d have to stick at it longer. Well, sorreee! It bloody hurt! And as I’d said I didn’t want hormones she pretty much dismissed the IUS as soon as I mentioned it, despite the extremely low dosage and my actually having meant the pill. Again, trying hard to be grateful for the good old NHS but I bloody hate having my fertility at someone else’s churlish hands and skimpy budget.

I can’t say I’m looking forward to the IUD, to be honest. My periods could be longer or heavier or hurt more, but they’re not too bad by nature, so any increase may just take me up to a normal level. I might bleed for a couple of weeks after it’s put in, but frankly, since I got an understanding unfazed-by-periods boyfriend and a Mooncup any extra bleeding should be a lot less hassle, and I think I’d rather have slightly heavier and/or painful periods than an extra stone in weight, teenage acne, no confidence, baby craving and clinical depression.

So I’m going back to the clinic next Friday to have the damn thing fitted. I am not looking forward to this. Last time I was told it was the closest you could get, pain wise, to having a baby and damn I wish I hadn’t just remembered that! If anyone has any hints on pain control/relaxation in this situation, or advice on IUD aftercare, what to expect etc, please let me know, and no scare stories, thank you. And I’d really appreciate it if you’d mentally hold my hand on Friday morning at about 11.45am BST cos I’ll be on my back thinking of England and panting for the head.

Not an option : -(

So back in, oooh, October, after a break of several years, I went back on the contraceptive pill. It’s a new brand called Cerazette, and apparently it’s one of a new breed of mini-pill that have the edge over the old-style ones in many ways, not least that you have a 12-hour window, rather than three-hours, in which to take it without having to resort to extra protection – a bonus for scatterbrains.

Now, the nurses said that any problems changing to the new pill would cause should have “worked themselves out” after six months. I’m not sure whether that means that anything left over by now is here to stay, but since starting taking it, the following symptoms, which may or may not be related to it, have been observed:

1. There has been a vast dip in my mood and level of confidence. I have become quite withdrawn and, at times, verbally inarticulate. I am, at the moment, crying on a regular basis – at least once or twice a week – and finding it extremely difficult to maintain the sunny-side attitude for which I am known. It’s doing my head in, and god knows what it’s doing to those around me, and the compounding effect of feeling less confident and acting less confident is wreaking havoc in my career, and stymieing my chances in interviews. I am starting to feel, and act, stupid, and people are treating me as such. I don’t know how much of this is nature, how much of this is nurture, and how much of it is pill-induced, but it’s horrid.
2. I have gone up at least one dress size. This has been denied by those around me, but my jeans tell a very different story. The dip in confidence has also been affected by the recent weight gain. Unfortunately, though, as my inner confidence levels are depleted, and I know that seeking approval from outside sources is ultimately futile, and pointless anyway when people (quite rightly, I grudgingly suppose, dammit) won’t give in and give it to you, I’m doing what I always do and eating my feelings. And then feeling fat and depressed. And eating more. Ugh. On top of the emotional eating, there’s the simple fact that I am, quite simply, a lot more hungry, more often, and I have no idea where this is coming from.
3. My face was, for a time, absolutely covered in acne. Most of this has now gone… but my entire back is now doing a passable impression of a teenage boy, which doesn’t bode well for summer clothing. Except that because of the weight gain I doubt that much of my summer clothing will actually fit me at the moment.
4. My hormones are going crazy and screaming for a baby. As the pill technically makes your body think that you are pregnant, it could be causing it. Or it could just be the fact that I’m getting on a bit and fucking love babies.

So, pros. Pros. There must be some pros.

OK, well, I know it’s politically incorrect and irresponsible towards the yoof of today to say so, but sex feels a lot better, both physically and emotionally, without a barrier keeping you apart, and the potential for spontaneous pervery is ace. Another pro is that, unlike many women, this has had absolutely no effect on my sex drive. It’s as unmanageably ridiculously high as ever. In fact it may be higher. This may actually be a con, since someone who feels lardy, spotty and unattractive is less likely to feel able to ask for what they want, when they want it, and then when they don’t get it, is more likely to feel it’s cos they’re lardy, spotty and unattractive.

Oh, I don’t know what to do. I have a couple of months left of these pills, I think, and I might just work through them to see what happens. A lot of this could be external forces making me miserable and fat and broody and horny. But I might just be convincing myself it’s external forces because, dammit, I don’t want to go back to barrier methods, they are rubbish. I could get the doctor to change my pill and do another six months or so of waiting for stuff to settle down. I had an IUD once before and it bloody hurt. It was like having an alien inside of me and lasted less than a week before I was begging them to take it out. But I could try it again though I really don’t want to.

Gah! I don’t know what to do.