Florida, Birth Control, and Other Unnatural Disasters
Navigating womanhood, medical gaslighting, and the art of self-advocacy.
Well, I guess more than just my mom is interested in following this journey! If you made it to this second article, muchas gracias! I am overwhelmed and thankful for the support. Now, just as I have garnered your sympathy and attention, I will blow it all up and encroach upon the simple and totally-not-taboo topic of women’s health. I am talking periods, UTI’s, IUD’s, hormones, gynecologists (or as I call them, coochie dentist), the whole bit.
Let me state the obvious out front- this is not medical advice. Just because I am about to tell you a decade of hormonal birth control was a huge mistake for me, doesn’t mean it is for you. Your doctor may tell you to get a second IUD just for fun, and if that works for you, party on Uterus Queen. As someone who has been around the block with hormonal birth control, and went off of it against the advice of all my providers, I want to paint a picture of my experience, the good the bad and the funny, so that someone can feel seen or spared or supported by a friend who needs to hear it.
Let me start this journey at my womanhood origin story:
I got my first period in 7th grade, on a Florida Spring Break with a friend. We were staying in one of those shabby beachfront hotel motels. The place was one room, two beds, and a bathroom we shared with her parents. I was surprised and stoked to be invited, since we were newer friends and I had only been to her house once prior. I was pleased to note all was going swimmingly, until the third night when I got up for a midnight tinkle, I was greeted by none other than Aunt Flow. Realizing I’m with near strangers and ripe for a shark attack, I had to make a move. I snuck out to the Walgreens around the corner and made an emergency call to my cool older sister, who walked me through what to buy and what to do. And this is how I began my soiree into womanhood, not counting that one false alarm, when my mother fearfully thought I had tumors on my chest, only for the doctor to tell her they were breast buds. This was the big time now. I am woman, hear me roar.
The novelty wore off quickly, and like many young women, I came to dread my period early on. I felt sluggish, my armpits were sweaty, and I had a minor eruption of pimples around my forehead. Come freshman year, I had seen a dermatologist who recommended I get on birth control. It was a miracle pill for acne, according to her. This wasn’t the first time the pill came up. My gynecologist had suggested it as well because it would reduce the symptoms I would otherwise be relegated to monthly suffering. My guess is if I had gone to a pediatrist at the time, they would have recommended it for an ingrown toenail. It seemed like every doctor was telling us this was the way we do things now, and so at 15, my Mom and I made the decision that I would start the pill. This wasn’t unusual. Loads of girls I knew were on it. Some even started younger than me. It wasn’t marketed to us as contraception, at least not primarily. This was a thing “we all” did for cramps and acne.
In hindsight, I don’t know if these were menstrual pains or growing pains. Of course periods are uncomfortable, and some folks experience very real challenges like PCOS and endometriosis, and hormonal birth control interventions could be life-giving, but that wasn’t my story. I enjoyed the lighter cycles, but after six months, I also developed a pretty severe recurrent migraine. (Yes yes, foreshadowing.) The acne resolving miracle? My acne only progressed. My doctor recommended we switch to an IUD, a hormonal birth control implanted in the uterus, releasing progestin into your body, a synthetic form of the hormone progesterone. (This will be important to know later.)
The IUD was basically a set-it-and-forget-it, good for 5 years, according to my doctor.
What preceded the implant was 127 straight days of bleeding or spotting, an experience that so plagued me, a coach pulled me aside in all seriousness and recommended I consider a hysterectomy on the grounds that this had negatively impacted my performance that season. Spoiler Alert: I did decide to keep my uterus.
Even writing this, I am thinking the same as you are. Why did I not pull the plug on this thing? Clearly, it was hurting me, but according to the narrative, my periods hurt more. This was reducing the severity, and given how severe this all was, I stupidly felt thankful to have it. Oh bless you, Mirena, protector of the period palace. Guard me from myself, oh powerful one!
Years passed, and I mostly forgot about the IUD. I had experienced bouts of depression and anxiety, a known side effect of my birth control, but it never felt outside the norms of teenage life, especially growing up in the wild west of the Instagram age. My acne persisted into my early twenties, but I had made peace with it. And then there came the thing. I didn’t mention “the thing” in my last piece because, quite frankly, it was embarrassing, but if you made it this far, I am going to clue you in.
I went through several years of recurrent infections, be it yeast, bacterial, UTI, that I just could NOT get under control. The whole thing was infuriating, embarrassing, and isolating. It seemed like any time I got sick, or even just run down, one of these issues, sometimes combinations of them, would be an accompanying problem. The episodes would sometimes last weeks or months, and despite visits with countless doctors, I never made ANY progress. I did rounds of strong antibiotics, like doxycycline, to no avail.
I remember one particularly low moment, where I sat on a Telehealth call with a male doctor, wincing as he explained the importance of peeing after sex and how to wipe. Equally demoralizing, I can’t count all the times I would refuse the always-offered STD test. I had marked “married” on the intake form, and no, there was no funny business going on. Yes, I change out of my workout clothes. Of course I shower every day. Does anyone have a guess as to what is really going on here? Nobody had answers they just had pills.
And then all the other health issues piled in. (If you missed that, you can read about it here.) For the first time in my life, I was having panic attacks almost daily. I had sunk into such a depression, my husband would speak to me and I would stare through him, despondent. I ignored calls. I stopped eating. I was a mess. At this time, I was mentioning to all my doctors that I was considering having my IUD removed, since I didn’t want to do all the work to stabilize my body, only to destabilize again in a few years when I wanted to start a family. Every doctor pushed back against it. I even earned a scoff and a high brow from my neurologist, who said “we will save that discussion for another time.” (God forbid a married 25-year-old woman has aspirations of motherhood in the future.) I canceled my next appointment with her.
I decided to go ahead with the removal. It felt like things could not get worse, so at least I would come to know if it was playing a factor. The first time I went to have it removed, I was in the stirrups for 15 painful minutes. Prodding and grabbing, the coochie dentist was unable to FIND my IUD. This was, unfortunately, the second time this had happened, and to this day, I can not tell you how or why. The doctor apologized and said I would need to make another appointment, they would have to extract using the assistance of an ultrasound. The cramping that followed was excruciating, accompanied by the fear that I would have to go through it all again soon.
The morning of that next appointment, I conveniently had my first-ever morning panic attack. These are like night panic attacks, but instead of sleeping after, you just have to cowboy up and face the day instead. My husband was at a loss for what to do. He offered to call in and take me to my appointment, but I refused. I would defeat the Mirena monster, once and for all. In the treatment room, the ultrasound tech was amazing. I was tearful in the chair, but I didn’t feel like forking over my life story (and let's be honest, at 7:30 AM she didn’t want to hear it.) I told her I was scared and appreciated her patience with me. At the recommendation of my amazing nurse sister, I asked for a local anesthetic for the cervix. It is not standard practice to offer, but it is well documented that the procedure is invasive and painful enough to warrant at least the option, and I was glad that I opted to take it. She and the nurse practitioner worked together, and after 10 minutes, they were able to successfully remove my IUD. We all high-fived. The relief in the room was palpable. I didn’t know it in that moment, but my experience in the weeks that followed was positively unexpected.
First, let’s start with the good:
-Despite my health picture remaining the same in all other areas, my depression and anxiety lifted AT LEAST 80%. I haven’t had a panic attack since. They just stopped. Praise God.
-Here is a big one: I HAVE NO RECURRENT INFECTIONS. The discomfort stopped. It hasn’t returned. This is a rare but documented phenomenon, and this Evvy article has links to the studies.
-My skin cleared up. At first, there were some minor flares, but it is the best it has EVER been in my life.
-My periods have returned, are still very irregular, but are not heavy. It makes me wonder if they ever were to begin with, or if I was just uncomfortable acclimating to womanhood.
-My hair stopped falling out.
And now for the not-so-good:
-My migraines didn’t improve, and I have more flares around my cycle
-Hot flashes. Lots of hot flashes…..
-A ton of fatigue, for weeks after, and brain fog (but this could have also been other things going on).
-My period, over 6 months later, has not stabilized (doctors tell you it takes about 3 months)
-Several months after my removal, we did hormone tests that showed I had ZERO traceable progesterone in my body. According to my (genuinely fantastic) naturopathic doctor, she suggested my hormonal profile suggested I was in menopause. AT 25. Lord help me.
Hormone replacement therapy, or HRT to the cool kids, has been a saving grace. I am taking bio-identical progesterone, which has noticeably helped me to regulate my body, and I recommend looking into hormone testing for any of my fellow menopausal girlies (joking but not joking!)
No matter where you are in life or health, I believe this advice stands as universal:
Listen to your body.
Stand up for yourself.
Do your research.
Ask questions.
If you have an intuition, feel empowered to pursue it.
I have finally come to understand I am the advocate of my own body.
It sounds so simple, but for the longest time I was the avoider of my body. The coach of my body. Now I am learning to be the protector- even the friend. I hope you do, too.
And now, back by popular demand, the horrible and wonderful ChatGPT title suggestions:
“The Coochie Chronicles: My Breakup with Birth Control”
“Hormones, Hysteria, and the IUD That Wouldn’t Quit”
“Party On, Uterus Queen: A Tale of Periods and Perseverance”
“Cervix Says No: The IUD Saga”
“Spotting Red Flags (Literally): My Decade on Birth Control”
“When Birth Control Controls You”
“Trust Your Gut (and Your Uterus)”
“From Avoiding to Advocating: My Hormonal Health Journey”
“Breaking Up with Hormonal Birth Control”
“Learning to Listen to My Body”
“Coochie Dentist and the Case of the Vanishing IUD”
“Ten Years on the Pill: A Love-Hate Story”
“Florida, Hormones, and Other Unnatural Disasters” (This one got upcycled!)
“Yeast, UTIs, and Me: A Rom-Com Gone Wrong”
“Hot Flashes at 25: A Millennial Menopause Mystery”
“Roaring Woman: A Journey Through Hormones and Healing”
“The Period Palace and Its (Former) Guardian”
“An IUD, A Walgreens, and Becoming a Woman”
“Cramps, Courage, and the Call to Self-Advocate”
“The Day I Became My Body’s Friend”
EVERY woman needs to read this so their daughters don't fall prey to the same advice.
Informative and fun to read! You definitely have a gift!!!!