So when I remember my blog and get up the wherewithal to write in it, I always remember about a gajillion things that might be good to write about. So the lucky world gets about twenty entries at a time instead of just one.
It's like the cookies I bake. I never bake cookies. Except when I bake a thousand of them. Then I eat them all within a couple of days. But...well, that's a different point.
Anyway.
I'm going to talk about periods.
Because talking about not writing enough in my blog is a perfect segue into talking about bleeding from my crotch. Ahem. Might be a sign to stop reading if you don't want to get up close and personal with my vagina.
VAGINA!!!!!!!
Ahem.
I've been thinking about trying some of the non-disposable methods for dealing with good ol' Aunt Flow for a while now. It just kind of depresses me when I'm dealing with the crimson tide and our trashcans pile up with my neatly-wrapped bundles of gore, to be sent directly to the landfill where they will undoubtedly linger for millenia in their virgin state of non-biodegradble-ness.
Plus, five bucks a month to help destroy the environment adds up, particularly when you're trying to be frugal about it and all.
I read up on cloth pads-- making them myself, that is, not buying them-- and since my lack of finishing projects is pretty much a running theme in this blog, I'm sure we all know how that went. Actually, it went as far as me getting the materials and cutting them out before realizing that holy shit, I need a lot of material for even one measly pad and it's financially sounder (poor grammar, sorry) to just buy them.
Except they seem so expensive! Argh. It's hard to get past the whole "invest the money NOW and reap the benefits later" when the money NOW seems like such a lot, especially when I'd have to replace them regularly (like every six months or so) anyway.
Then I read about the DivaCup. I'd known about them for a while, known how they worked and how so many women raved about the Diva and other menstrual cups. They are made of silicon, which you can reuse and which is biodegradable, they last for-frickin'-ever apparently if you take proper care of them (like, years), and though they cost about $32 dollars or so, they'd pay for themselves within about six months.
Plus, you can wear them for much longer, over night even, you don't have to wear a bulky pad, you don't leak if they're inserted properly, and you don't have to carry around tons of supplies.
However, I'd never quite gotten reconciled to the idea of shoving a large object up my vagina multiple times a day, nor the idea of having to get up close and personal with my cooter to get the thing out again. I don't even like using tampons for that reason-- they're weird-feeling, and I'm kinda terrified of the idea of Toxic Shock Syndrome.
This last month, though, I leaked through my pad and onto my pajamas not once, but twice. It was as I was washing the blood out of my favorite jeans that I decided "Fuck it. I'll just have to get over the insertion fear, because this is honestly the best thing financially and environmentally. Plus the whole not-having-to-wash-blood-out-of-my-pants thing."
I bought it. I brought it home.
It was hard to insert. It's bigger and more solid than it looks, and it kept getting caught either on my pubic bone or in the mighty clench of my vaginal muscles. Finally it went in, though. It felt...mostly okay. A little...odd. My inside-y parts felt a little sore, much like there was a large foreign object inside me (imagine that!).
I don't know if anyone else experiences this, but when I have any sort of medical procedure on a body part, like I get a shot in my shoulder, I feel sort of intensely weird about using that body part afterward. I always made them give me my shots in my right arm, so if I had to write something I wouldn't have to worry, and I never wanted to eat anything after I'd gotten my teeth cleaned. I felt the same way about this; I was due to work out that day, but I felt strange about jostling about with a silicone cup inside my vagina. So I didn't.
Anyway, once I got the cup in, it immediately got, um, sucked up inside me. The instructions said to leave the stem (basically a silicone "tail" that lets you grab it) no more than half an inch inside, but obviously it didn't stay there. I kept the cup in for a while. It worked fine; I didn't leak once I'd gotten it properly adjusted, though I did wonder how it would work getting it out.
Oh my god. Getting it out. It was SO WEIRD. I squatted. I bore down like I was giving birth. I stuck my fingers WAY up inside myself (and I don't do that! Ever!) and waggled them around trying to get a finger-hold. Finally after about twenty minutes of doing my best not to panic, I grabbed what little I could grab of the tail, dug my fingernails in, and pulled for all I was worth. They said the suction was necessary to preventing leaks. They were not kidding about the thrice-damned suction. And if shoving a silicone cup inside you felt strange, the sensation of yanking it back out again, complete with the sensation of yanking your vagina along with it, is about ten times stranger!
I did NOT like that sensation. But I refused to give up. I'd invested my money and I'd be damned if I didn't get my money's worth. So after washing it out in the sink (really not that disgusting), I put it back in. It went a *little* easier this time, but not easier enough to make me really want to repeat the experience.
Later, rinse, repeat for my next time. Unpleasant.
Then I promptly went to the internet and looked up tips on making removal easier.
Good thing I did! I learned that peeing just before removal lowers it in my vaginal canal and makes it much easier. I also learned that for some women, later in their periods the Cup rides higher up, and this was probably my issue since I'd started using it on day 3 or so of my period.
So the next evening, dreading it, I went in, peed, and...voila! It was like a miracle! I got it out, washed, and back in within about five minutes. It was a HUGE relief, let me tell you, because it seriously was feeling like I was getting a pelvic exam every twelve hours, and that was not cool.
I was told by a girl I know that the first month is always awkward, but afterward you will never go back. I don't know if I can say "NEVER" with confidence, but I like to feel I've made a start.
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