the mirena and my mega ginormous vagina

After being on the pill for 5 years, at age 19 I took the decision to change my contraceptive to something less… arduous? Depressing? (THAT is a whole other story) .

I opted for the Mirena coil.   

The Mirena coil, also known as the hormonal coil is essentially a tiny, weeny, T shaped thing which is put up inside your fanny and, by some scientific magic, releases hormones meaning you don’t get pregnant. Yippee! (I would strongly advise asking a doctor or consulting the NHS website if you want to know the real ins and outs of this).  

It sounded perfect. Once it’s in, it’s there for 5 years. No more need to remember to take a pill every single day. Hormones are released locally so have less of an effect on your mood and weight and it’s likely to make periods lighter and in many cases stop completely.  Oh, and it’s 99% effective.   

Cons? Slightly uncomfortable procedure to insert it, and small percentages of risks such as pelvic infection or puncturing your uterus (but these are very rare) my GP informed me. And you can’t have sex a week before.   

No problemo. Sign me up.  

I got a prescription to pick up my coil, aka my new best friend for the next 5 years. I walked to Boots in my pyjamas and handed over the prescription. I was then presented with a cardboard box as long as my arm that said: ‘MIRENA CONTRACEPTIVE COIL’ in large letters.    

There must be some mistake? It’s… huge!   

 How does that… fit? I thought it was meant to be small?!  

 I started to think I had made a grave mistake.  

Would you like a bag? The man behind the counter asked me. I wasn’t going to pay 5p for a plastic bag (save the planet!) so continued to parade down Streatham high road, Mirena box under my arm for all to see.   

It actually felt quite liberating.   

Day of my appointment - I arrive at the GP with my cardboard box containing the little, magic, plastic thing, which was about to be inserted into my uterus and live inside me for 5 years.  After going through a quick outline of what was about to happen, I was warned I would experience slight discomfort similar to a period cramp, but it would all be over quickly. So, I took off my trousers and lay down under the fluorescent, clinical light, onto the long piece of tissue, which had been laid down on the hospital bed and awaited my fate.   

“You’re going to have to take your pants off as well.”  

Fuck.  

Take 2. I lie down again, and my doctor lies a bit of what looks like kitchen roll across my stomach and pubes. I guessed this was to give me some dignity, but while my legs were spread wide and her head was in between them, as she stared straight up my vagina, I didn’t really see the point.   

“I’m just going to have a quick feel and see if your uterus flops forward or backwards”  

Weird, I thought. Never imagined a uterus to flop. Gloves on, she grabbed a bottle of lube, rubbed it on her fingers and then to be blunt, shoved a finger, maybe two, up my vagina, rather forcefully.  

Relax! I told myself.  

“Wonderful, your uterus flops forward just like most women”. 

“Oh, wonderful!” I said voice shaking and weirdly loudly.  

“Okay, I’m now just going to insert the speculum so I can measure your uterus and then insert the Mirena”. 

She tried to squeeze the speculum in. It popped out almost immediately. More lube. Still not staying in. If anything the lube seemed to be facilitating the sliding out process. “If you just try and relax; deep breath. Please,”  she said through gritted teeth.  

Relax? How the fuck am I meant to relax when your shoving these fucking massive metal tongs inside my vagina!? I thought.  

“Yeah sure, just a bit nervous,” I said, smiling.  

 Eventually after a slight readjustment of my legs, and some breathing exercises, she had successfully inserted the speculum into my vagina.  

It is breezy in here! I thought. My vagina felt huge. Like a cave. I felt like my vagina was wide enough to push a fully developed baby out and I really hoped this would be over as soon as possible.  

“Okay. I am now going to open up the speculum so I can have a proper look inside”  

My eyes widened. WHAT!?  

More cold, clinical, air blew into my, now, mega ginormous vagina.  

She opened up the large cardboard box, which held my Mirena and pulled out a long device, which looked like a thermometer. So that’s why the box was so bloody big.  I felt that after the speculum incident, she had decided to just get on with whatever she was going to do, to avoid me tensing up and the speculum flying out my vagina and hitting the wall on the other side of the room.   

Having my uterus measured hurt more than I had anticipated. I had been prone to heavy periods and cramps when I was younger, but this was another level.   

I felt completely helpless lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, clenching my clammy fists. My doctor could see I was visibly uncomfortable and assured me that was the most pain I would experience. She assured me everything was fine and dandy, and so she could now insert the Mirena.  

 I’ve never broken a bone or ever seriously injured myself (touch wood). My experience of pain would go as far as stubbing my toe, so I have no idea how high my physical pain tolerance is.  

I would imagine, however, the feeling of being stabbed in the uterus would probably feel pretty similar, if not maybe nicer, than the pain which followed. I must’ve blacked out as I remember screaming, fuuuuuck! Then opening my eyes with my doctor checking my pulse and telling me to take deep breaths and not to get up from my lying position in case I fainted. But great news! It’s all in.  

 As I walked slowly and uncomfortably out the GP and I felt betrayed.  

My doctor had lied to me. The leaflets I’d read had lied. I was meant to see a friend at the pub that evening but my stomach was in so much pain I just wanted to lie on the sofa eating as much comfort food as possible. I started looking up other women’s experiences of having the coil inserted online and found that many similar to mine.   

Why hadn’t I been told? Things got scarier when my stomach cramps got increasingly worse that evening and I went to the toilet to find my pants were soaked through with fresh, warm, bright red blood. I began to panic and started crying. I called my GP and said I needed to urgently speak to my doctor. I think something’s gone horribly wrong.   

 “I did mention you may experience some spotting after insertion”. 

 “This really isn’t spotting, it’s really heavy bleeding” I pleaded.  

“Oh! Every woman’s different, some bleed more than others. If you’re still worried tomorrow, give me a call. If not, I’ll see you in a month for your follow up appointment”. 

So, what followed was weeks of cramping and bleeding, unable to go to college, unable to see friends. I was just sore, but I was reassured this was all “normal”. I felt very, very sorry for myself.  Eventually,  the cramps subsided and all that remained was a pretty disgusting brown discharge. This brown goop continued for about a month and when I told my doctor I was assured again, this was all “normal”.   

It wasn’t quite the same liberation I imagine the pioneers of female contraception had in mind. But despite the pain, the bleeding, the missed pub trips, the irregular periods, the brown discharge, the shooting pains in my thighs, the fear of not being able to feel the strings, the nights sweats, the fear of pregnancy…  It was a bold step into womanhood and the exciting beginning of a relationship with a new form of contraception and sexual liberation!  

…  Right?  

Ladies, I implore you, let’s discuss our experiences with contraception. Let’s shout about it so that the teenagers who are walking into their GP’s to get their first, second, third or tenth form of contraception are walking in feeling informed, aware, safe, brave and liberated.