GOOD GRIEF!

Ah, nature. I’m your biggest cheerleader until it comes to one thing and one thing only; me having a baby. In a word; NO. 

It’s my fucking birthday and I’m sitting at a car dealership waiting on a repair listening to P.I.L. loudly in my headphones. I remember a lot of myself in their music. I was especially saddened to hear of the passing of their incredibly unique and influential guitar player, Keith Levene last November. I love most eras of their recordings but “Flowers of Romance” is my homebase for all things Public Image. I’m listening here in this sterile, square space surrounded by people who no doubt look somewhat like me; white, middle aged, etc., but in the mirror of my soul I’m a toothy, lippy kid who doesn’t want to be a girl. It’s funny because I still don’t.

Why would I think about this in a car dealership? Well, partly because I will be here for an undisclosed amount of time and partly because my lower back is on fire with cramps, and not just any cramps. Until two days ago I had an IUD sitting inside my uterus to stop any unwanted pregnancy. I went in to have a routine removal of the device which has been a good friend for about eleven years. (So long, buddy!) When the doctor was pulling it out through my impossibly small cervix the IUD snapped into three pieces. It felt like my body was fighting the doctor for a wishbone through my vagina, which is quite funny, except that it hurt. 

Men, this is the part where it is very important to stay with me and not turn away. I was told about the possibility of the device breaking while having all three of the IUDs I have had over the years inserted and removed. I knew the possibly of what I was in for. It’s not a fault of the makers of the device or the doctor; it just happens. I had to go back to the doctor the next day to get a “procedure” done where they numb my cervix with a very long needle, inject me with fluid and “float” remaining plastic in attempt to be able to grab and remove the extra bits still left in that old uterus of mine. It was more painful than the first visit by quite a bit and that had been no picnic. I was so uncomfortably clamped down and into the stirrups I felt like there were barnacles forming on my knee joints. The doctors did a good job but only managed to get out one of the two remaining pieces, so, I was sent off to X-ray. 

My doctor called me this morning to tell me they could see the remaining piece which was likely embedded in the uterine wall, BUT they only had a 2D image via X-Ray so they would need a CAT scan and I would need surgery. Good times. CHA-ching!

My crossed leg moves up and down to the floating phrase “Anger is an energy! Anger is an energy!” I am angry and I’m right in my anger. I’m not mad at the doctors or whatever corporation makes the Paragard, I’m angry at this world. I know I would be an unfit mother and should not give birth. I was an unwanted child with some pretty epic trauma, so I have never felt anything but responsible and righteous keeping myself from having a baby. I’m mad that we have pills to give people super-erections but nothing safer and more effective than the IUD for women and people with uteruses to protect ourselves. Some of us can’t take the hormonal birth control. It’s like dosing someone with PCP who really doesn’t want to feel or be that psychotic, terrifying high, or lose so much blood you pass out in the shower. That’s just me, but there is an endless variety of horrors to suffer from hormones if your body will not accept them.

I’m sure it’s better now than it was in the 80’s but just because there have been small advancements doesn’t mean we, the people, as individuals can afford to engage the medical professionals to help manage them. Hormones are no fucking joke. Medical science doesn’t spend money to research hormones and their effects in women or women’s health in general. But fertility? No problem! Fertility is currency, and there are many scientific advancements in getting you pregnant. Meanwhile, I have a broken plastic toothpick stuck in my uterus. We have health insurance that covers boner pills but not abortion. There is no birth control for men beyond condoms or the incredibly effective and maintenance free vasectomy which no one will get. I will take very real risks with the very sensitive walls of my uterus and cervix because I do not have the option to take getting pregnant for granted. Anger is an Energy, but it can’t get people to care about what women face trying to do the right thing and keep ourselves safe ALONE,with the burden falling completely on our shoulders. Not that we haven’t tried to raise the issue with civility and with kindness. We tired that first. It was wiped away.

I’m so angry that women and people with uteruses who do not want to be pregnant or have children are not respected. We are not damaged or “off” or selfish or “unnatural.” We are smart, sympathetic, empathetic and aware. We have actually thought hard and weighed what it might mean to gamble with another human being’s life. We are brave enough to look the truth of ourselves in the face, be honest and say “no.” 

I have no idea if my shitty insurance will cover any of this past the initial IUD removal attempt, and it chills me when I think about what all the millions of women face in this situation without any. I flash back to being a 17 year old bleeding through my pants onto the seat of a city bus because I didn’t have any money for pads. Anger is an energy. The anger has always been here, and I won’t let it atrophy by the force of sheer will. I’m a motherfucker when it comes to not giving up, often to my detriment.

To all of you who feel tired of being seen as some sort of broken, selfish vessel I feel you. I’m proud of us. And as an unwanted child, I thank you with all my heart.