Editor’s note: Trigger warning for medical content and detailed account of a medical procedure.
Skyla is my most loyal friend. She’s been there for me during every relationship and breakup. In fact, she’s always there for me. Skyla isn’t a person; she’s my Intrauterine Device (IUD).
I got my hormonal IUD inserted freshman year, and the process of choosing an IUD was as important as the outcome. As is true for many, when I started college, I started the process of becoming my own person. This meant maturing and taking responsibility for myself, including being proactive about reproductive health.
Sex isn’t simply about the relationship I have with my partner. It’s also about my relationship with myself.
While birth control should not be only a woman’s responsibility, I argue that having control over one’s body can be reassuring and sexually liberating, especially for women. There is no external reliance on a partner’s accountability when using personal birth control. Birth control gives us the power to manage our sexuality without fearing the repercussions of others’ carelessness.
But utilizing contraception is easier said than done. Condoms are easy to access but can fail due to user error. Everything else requires medical consultation and, typically, a visit to the clinic.
Therefore, seeking contraceptive support can be intimidating. It took a pregnancy scare to trigger my decision to investigate LARCs, long-acting reversible contraceptives.
As stated in their name, LARCs are long-term birth control options that do not impact your future ability to become pregnant. Within this classification are implants and IUDs. LARCs are convenient because they are over 99% effective at preventing pregnancy and do not require habitual use like the pill.
My first step towards choosing a LARC was meeting with a Health Promotion Specialist to discuss them. Individual consultation is available to every student through SDSU’s Well-being and Health Promotion services.
After speaking with the specialist about my hormonal and non-hormonal options, I opted to choose the copper IUD, which is the only non-hormonal LARC and prevents pregnancy for up to 12 years. IUDs seemed scary, but scarier yet were the side effects I’d heard the hormonal implant caused.
No method was without risk. My friend had a copper IUD and highly recommended it, but she also warned me that the insertion experience and cramping were awful. Worse yet, she told me that most doctors didn’t even prescribe pain medication to help their patients through such a challenging procedure.
My next step was to consult a physician using my family’s medical plan. In California, minors can get birth control without parental consent, meaning that physicians cannot inform legal guardians of the procedure without patient consent.
Still, I decided to confide in my mother, who supported my choice. My parents have always made it clear that my safety is the most important thing. So, though I knew a conversation about my sexual health would be awkward, I knew my needs would be respected.
Many may find the same thing when faced with mature family conversations. In these interactions, guardians can be surprisingly straightforward and understanding.
With my mom’s support behind me, I called my health care provider and scheduled a virtual consultation with an obstetrician/gynecologist (OB-GYN). Via phone call, my OB-GYN recommended Skyla as opposed to the copper IUD I was set on getting.
I hesitated. I did not trust hormonal treatment. While medical professionals assured me side effects were minor, I had done my own searching online and read horror stories of insane acne breakouts, heavier, painful periods, uncontrolled weight fluctuation, and much more. Based on the testimony of patients like me, it all seemed too variable.
Most of all, I was worried the hormonal changes would disrupt my emotional health and my affect would change completely. It seems drastic, but I worried I could lose myself and my happiness.
Still, my OB-GYN explained that the side effects I brought up were uncommon amongst the majority of women he’d advised. He said at most the side effects, specifically an irregular cycle, would come and go within six months as my body adjusted. Further, Skyla uses the lowest synthetic hormone dosage and is associated with fewer side effects than other IUDs or the implant.
I trusted his suggestion and scheduled my Skyla insertion.
Despite my confidence in my choice, I was terrified about the procedure. I watched videos to understand the insertion process, but every comment section full of IUD-gone-wrong stories discouraged me from even thinking about it. Still, I was relieved that my experience was already different. Despite what I had heard about some patients only using ibuprofen, my doctor had prescribed medication to address pain concerns.
And so, the appointment day arrived. I had arranged for my mother to drive me to and from the clinic and completed all my homework in case I was too bedridden with cramps to do anything during the coming weekend. All my female dorm-mates knew what I was preparing for and wished me luck. All my preparation had culminated in this.
At the clinic, I entered a room with an upright-facing bed with stirrups where the feet could rest. I met my doctor–a kind woman with a reassuringly calm demeanor. She explained the process clearly.
First, a speculum was inserted to hold the vaginal canal open. This hurt like a deep cramp, and felt like the vaginal version of when a dentist holds your mouth open with pliers. However, the pain was a four out of ten at worst, and the nurse held my hand through it as the doctor talked through the next steps.
Second, my cervix was measured and the area was cleaned with a swab. This was a strange feeling, but not bad.
Then came the IUD in a long, skinny insertion tube. The doctor warned me I’d feel pressure, and it came quickly. The pain spread low in my stomach and pelvis. It felt like a period cramp rippling through me, but it subsided surprisingly quickly. The doctor assured me that all that was left was to cut the strings, which she did. She removed the speculum, and it was done.
I had survived my IUD insertion.
I was in a daze following the appointment. Not because of the drugs’ effects, but because of how easy the procedure had been overall.
There was no excruciating pain. It was no big deal at all.
I did not feel notably different at all in the next week. There was slight cramping, if any at all. Within a couple of days, I could check for the strings with my fingertips. My body was OK. I was OK. And I would be for three years.
I had an incredibly positive experience with my IUD, and I consider myself lucky for that. Still, I think successful IUD stories are highly undershared.
If I had listened to the warnings of others, I might not have decided on the method of birth control that brings me peace of mind every day.
My IUD gives me a sense of security that is mentally freeing. I go through my day without having to think once about my reproductive health. With my IUD, I know I’ve taken care of my current and future self.
IUDs are empowering, and getting one doesn’t have to be scary. The experience can be rewarding and full of compassionate moments between the individual, caring personal supporters, and medical providers.
In a time of increasing concern regarding reproductive rights, it’s more important now than ever to acknowledge the ways those with uteruses can fight for the right to care for their bodies.
If you are considering a LARC, don’t hesitate. Seek professional medical resources to learn about the birth control option that works best for you. Currently, Well-being and Health Promotion is hosting birth control peer chats on Mondays from 9 to 10 a.m. Don’t let external concerns impede your deliberation. Treat your body with compassion: as you care for it, it will care for you. Know that from one IUD girlie to another, I’m rooting for you.
