Three years ago, three months after birthing twin girls I was all baby-ed out. A pretty hiuderous pregnancy coupled with two little people to add to my school bound son meant that my uterus was shutting up shop and it was time to do something about it.
After a quick flick of the internet, and knowing that following obstetric cholestatis I was unable to have an oestrogen based pill, I thought that having a nexplanon implant would be the simplest form of contraception. After booking in at the Doctors, I was all set but in hindsight I really wish I had done a bit more research.
Having it fitted was AGONY. As a whole, nothing really phases me pain wise. Tattoos, piercings, blood tests, needles, surgery – I’m fine and have quite a high pain threshold but I didn’t bank on how bloody uncomfortable it would be. For weeks after, I could “feel” it moving about but was told this was normal and it was just settling in. Despite the humungous bruise that completely filled my upper arm making it painful to use, it did settle down pain wise, but the biggest pain was yet to come.
Erratic periods. Now, in hindsight, I really should have had it removed sooner but all advice said that after 12 months my periods should settle down. They didn’t. They were so infrequent and so much heavier and brought with them terrible stomach aches which I had never had before. Again, I was told this was normal and it’ll all settle down. I also think it sent me a little…loopy. Around the hodge-podge days that I was bleeding I also became incredibly mardy and grumpy, more so than I ever have before. It’s only looking back now I can see how awful I have been the last three years. Mood swings don’t even cut it, I was a full on angry lady.
When I finally got round to getting it removed as it was needing removing as three years was nearly up, it decided to play up one final time.
They couldn’t get it out.
My doctors refused now to remove it, meaning I had to sit at our sexual health clinic which happens to be at the place where my sister works. I am by no means embarrassed but I did feel the need to tell everyone I saw who I knew that I was there for removal and not that I’d got the clap! I was asked to fill in a form which asked if my parents knew I was there and sit amongst spotty teens, it was an experience!
After what seemed an eternity, I was called and had to fill in more forms only to then lay on a bed and have a nurse try for over 40 minutes to be told it wouldn’t come out. Brilliant. I was poked, prodded and gouged pretty much for nothing. I was told I’d have to be referred to the Doctors in a fortnight to see if they could “dig it out”
It’s not been a pleasant experience for me and fortunately on Tuesday, the doctor got it out with minimal fuss and pain. I’m so glad it has gone. Anyone else had any problems?