this might be a little mushy

We all carry around baggage from our past relationships, and one particularly heavy piece of luggage I’ve been lugging around for a while is full of goodies such as “I don’t want to be abandoned”, “will you really be there for me when you say you will”, and “can I rely on you.” Which sucks for P. because he certainly has never added anything into that particular piece of luggage.

Earlier today, I had an IUD inserted. I had heard that there might be a bit of discomfort and I might be a little crampy and want a ride home. He said he would take me. Now, he didn’t really have to take me. I could managed on my own. But deep down, I was kind of a scared baby about the whole thing and really wanted him to be there. Things have been crazy busy for him at work lately and last night, he worked until after 2am. So, I told him that if things were too busy at work, I could just go by myself.

He looked at me like I was an insane person. “Of course I’m going to take you.”

The actual procedure? I had read about “discomfort”. I heard maybe I should take an “advil” beforehand. No one mentioned that this would hurt worse than any pain I had ever experienced in my life including the time I broke my nose skiing and was three hours from the nearest hospital or yesterday when I had to get a third shot right in my elbow that went all the way to the bone. My doctor was trying to distract me with happy talk but my brain could not process the noises I was hearing because it was stuck on only the excruciating pain in parts that were protesting with every fiber and cell. “What is this coming at us? The uterus is not meant to have plastic pokey things invade the sacred walls. Back pokey thing, back! We will fight you to the death!”

A couple of minutes into it, my doctor said, “are you OK? Should we take a break?” A break? Are you serious? Finish whatever the hell torture you’re doing and get all that heavy equipment out of there! Actually, I said, “it’s OK. Keep going.” And muffled a sob.

When it was all finished (which took less than five minutes but seemed like several years), she told me that I’d done great. That this went really smoothly, compared to many she’s done. I had no words to reply to that.

Now that I’m home, I’ve done more reading. According to the Mirena brochure, a side effect may be: “cramps dizziness, or faintness when Mirena is inserted. This is common. Sometimes the cramping is severe.” This is like saying, that side effects of chopping off your head with an axe may include a slight pinch in the neck area. Although, if you read between the lines, you realize that cramps that cause you to FAINT are severe indeed. And then I read on an online forum about someone’s experience. “The procedure was very very painful…I’ve never cried out in pain before and this procedure caused me to yell and press my fist up to the wall for support! As soon as the doctor passed my cervix I fainted and puked, and then hyperventilated and my body curled up in a VERY tense little ball. I had to lay on my side and work on my breathing until my body finally untensed about 20 minutes later.”

And hey, I didn’t pass out, puke, and hyperventilate, so maybe I did OK after all.

I did manage to hold back tears until I saw P. in the waiting room. And while the worst of the pains had passed, the cramps were still pretty bad. He looked concerned. “What can I do?” There’s just nothing much a guy can do about cramps, sadly.

We shared the elevator with a guy, a couple of women, and a toddler. One of the women was pregnant. The guy was asking one of the women about an online forum she goes to. “Oh, you know. We hang out. Talk. Complain. Brag about our kids. Oh no, I’m pregnant! That kind of thing.” As we got off the elevator, P. leaned over and whispered, “should I ask her the name of the forum, so you have somewhere to talk to people this afternoon?”

We got home, and helped me to the couch, made sure I was tucked into a blanket and had the remote. He asked if I needed a book, a movie, a drink. He said that he would only be five minutes away at work and to call if I needed anything or for him to come home and make me lunch. I curled up into a little ball and he rubbed my back. I told him that I was sorry I was being a whiny baby, but he said that today, I could be as whiny as I wanted. (Not that I’m not anyway, but I suppose he’s used to it.) He brought me my laptop and my phone.

He finally took one last worried look at me and headed down stairs. A couple of minutes later, I heard him coming back up. He was carrying a cat. He put the cat next to me. You likely haven’t met my cats. They are possibly the laziest cats I’ve ever known. This one was quite happy to curl up and fall right asleep. (And he still is, several hours later.)

P.’s been sending me text messages all afternoon. “How’s your loins?” It’s his romantic side coming out. Now I’m just waiting for him to get home so we can do some tequila shots. I could use some about now. And you can’t get much more romantic than tequila shots.

I may have excruciating pain in my most personal of places that’s making me wonder if my uterus has secretly been plotting against me all this time, just waiting for the chance to decimate me, but my luggage is getting a little lighter.

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