Ode to Gargamel

I think I have mentioned before that I like to name things, not just my children.  My car is Betty.  My blender is Gandalf the Grey.  I have alternate names for my kids and husband here on the blog, and so on.

Well Gargamel is my IUD.  Gargamel is scheduled for eviction tomorrow.

Now before you start thinking OMG congrats on wanting to get knocked up!  I would like to tell you that this is emphatically not the plan.  The plan is to not be miserably sick and dying, not to be baking any buns in my oven.

See while I may have reason to hope that Vitamix may someday contact me so that I can tell the world about how fantastic their product is and how necessary it is for families with uber speeeshal dietary needs, I will never have any reason to hope that Mirena will ask me to advertise from them.

Cuz if they did it would go something like this:

Hi there *waves enthusiastically* would you like to have reoccurring pregnancy symptoms like phantom kicks, a ever expanding gut, and emotionally-hormonally-psycho-roller-coaster regularly?  Well have I got the little T-shaped piece of plastic from hell for you!

How about whiskers on your breasts?  Yup, you effing heard me right!  You will sporadically get one of these at total random and be like "WTF is that?!" and wonder if all those "it will put hair on your chest" BS things you heard are true, but nope.  You can smoke all the cigars you want while shooting whiskey and have totally fur-free boobs, but the IUD can give you a breast beard in no time!

How about fat?  Your gyno and all the literature you will find in our useless pamphlets and brochures will swear this Can. Not. Happen.  But between you and me, I guaran-freaking-tee 15 pounds minimum.  In the most awkward as hell places to boot not just evenly distributed everywhere!

Feeling sexy yet?  Oh, yeah, speaking of that, wanna know why we are sooooo effective as a method of birth control?  Well its cuz your sex drive is going to tank so damn hard you'd rather do the dishes after Thanksgiving than do the deed!

And how do you feel about your period?  I mean presumably you are trying to tamp Aunt Flo down a smidge, amIright?  Well many women may experience a dramatic decrease in frequency and severity of all menstrual symptoms ... but if you are really lucky you may be one of the women who have constant unexplained bleeding, heavy, horrible cramping, and a completely inconsistent cycle that makes you want to go insane!

Oh, and you might actually go insane too.  The emotional roller coaster we mentioned earlier could be totally punctuated with frigging panic attacks and cool shit like that!

-- end advertisement -- 

I think you may get the picture here, I am not going to be popping on here sharing my awesome new job opportunity with this particular company anytime soon, especially since that is the SHORT list of misery that Gargamel brought me.  Add to all that the crippling body pain, the weird autoimmune stuff that flared horribly, and the overall discomfort I have with some plastic thing being IN my uterus not rendering me from getting pregnant but merely rendering a pregnancy from not sticking ... blech.

If you are wondering why in the name of waffles I chose to get the IUD in the first place, I could post for another 45 minutes detailing my shatastic luck with any form of contraceptive.  Latex condoms could actually kill me, the pill tried to, the Ring was great until I became a psycho and then was allergic to it, the shots I am ineligible for because of family history and the patch is a no-go because I attract severe migraines without any help thank you.

So basically, the most Catholic part of my body is my uterus which wants nothing to do with contraception.  Clearly, I am just insanely lucky.

So the dilemma of what to do when you don't think now is a good time to get preggers while also not wanting to live celibately forever is best solved, for Bunyan and I anyway, by taking a more natural approach.  Natural Family Planing (NFP) or the Fertility Awareness Method (FAM) are both things we are learning more about while carefully proceeding without Gargamel's efforts to make me miserable.

I may blog about them some more as I go on, but may not.  I sincerely hope that the blog will not start with two pink lines, because if you know what you are doing you shouldn't get pregnant at all.

But then again, when have you ever known ME to know what I am doing?!