Why I Became a Fertility Awareness Educator
Average read time: 10-12 minutes
CW: discussion of trauma associated with gynecological procedures.
It starts with an IUD. My copper IUD to be exact.
Throughout my teens and early 20s, I had been on the pill. I hated it, trying to remember each day to take a little pill, forgetting, remembering again, forgetting, and then remembering again. I was horrible, taking 2-3 pills at a time when I forgot for days on end. And then there was the prescription refill. I had to remember to fill the prescription every three months, something that my college, then first year teacher brain would not and could not remember. I realized I needed to consider different options when I lost my health insurance at 26 and found out that I would now owe Walgreens and the big pharma overlords over $100 for a one month’s supply of birth control. I said, “No way!” and never looked back.
As I researched, I decided that I wanted to stay away from hormonal forms of contraceptives. At the time, I wasn’t sure why I leaned that way, only that I wanted to see what my body was capable of without putting synthetic hormones in it. So I chose Paragard, the copper IUD. I presented my choice to my ob/gyn at the time, who said, “GREAT!” and put it in me. There wasn’t much discussion about side effects, about benefits and risks. The only part of that appointment that I remember was my doctor raving with me about our mutual love of menstrual cups (which I still love! Reach out here if you want more info!).
And for the next 7 years, the IUD stayed inside me. And for the next 7 years, I bled. I mean, I BLED. My period would last roughly 9 days, with 6+ days of heavy bleeding. I’d be changing my menstrual cup every 1-2 hours, which, as a teacher, is an impossible task. I bled through underwear, pants and skirts. I stressed constantly on what to wear, just in case I leaked. And don’t even get me started on how many bedsheets had to be soaked for days in order to remove the blood stains.
On top of this mental load, I also discovered I was anemic. No surprise there! I was losing too much blood each month for my body to be retaining enough iron. And so then came the iron supplements. And the research on iron-rich foods. And the headaches. And the fatigue. I knew that I was bleeding a lot during my period, but in the seven years I had my IUD in, no one ever talked to me about potentially removing the IUD as the solution to my symptoms.
Finally I had enough. I was over 30, in a committed relationship with a loving partner, and I was tired of constantly bleeding. So I decided to get my IUD removed.
You may be thinking, wow, this is horrible! No wonder she turned to fertility awareness-based methods (FABMs) of birth control! But this wasn’t actually the catalyst for my transition into the world of FAMBs. It was the removal of the IUD itself.
I decided at my next ob/gyn appointment I’d request to have my IUD taken out and that would be that. I was prepared to try the pill again or get a hormonal IUD inserted, but I thought I’d worry about that after the IUD was removed. So the day of my appointment, I go in and tell my doctor, “Alright! Let’s take this out! It’s a simple, yet uncomfortable procedure, right?” The doctor confirmed, laid me back on the table, and started poking around.
It’s an intimate thing to have someone inside you. Anyone who has been to the ob/gyn has an opinion on this. Sometimes people feel stressed and anxious, some people say the feeling is strange and weird. It can be traumatic and triggering for some, while for others it’s just another thing to check off the to do list. Each person has a different experience at the ob/gyn that will dictate how they interact with their doctor. And different lived experiences that they need to navigate as they consent to a vaginal exam. My own experiences had been pretty meh. I didn’t like the sensations, but I also knew that it was inevitable, so I always just went along with whatever the doctors recommended.
Nothing prepared me for the first attempt to remove my IUD. The doctor explained that she needed to grab the string and pull the IUD out through my cervix. I thought, “Alright? Sounds simple enough?” But then the doctor kept yanking. And poking. And prodding. And pulling bloody instruments out of me. I started to tear up, not understanding at the time why I was so emotional, feeling so anxious and uncomfortable, feeling like I couldn’t stop what was happening to me. This went on for an hour. Me trying to control my tears and emotions as I laid on my back, with the doctor inside of me, poking, prodding, yanking, and touching. Finally she looked up, saw my tears, patted the inside of my leg, and said that the procedure wasn’t working; we’d have to try something else.
She explained to me that she could see the string, but it was shorter than she wanted it to be, making it hard to grab and pull out. She recommended that I schedule a follow up appointment, and that she’d give me a prescription to insert into my vagina beforehand to ripen my cervix. Through tears and fear, I agreed and left the office to call my best friend, who helped calm me down.
The day of the follow up appointment, I did exactly as asked. I inserted the medication (I’m so sorry, y’all, I have no idea what medication I was prescribed, although I have a feeling it was Misoprostol) and went to the doctor, scared but hopeful.
It was the exact same experience. Me lying on the table, crying and scared, while the doctor yanked and pulled, prodded and poked. Blood was everywhere (I’m still not sure why, I was not menstruating at the time) and I grew more and more fearful. The doctor was muttering to herself the whole time, trying to figure out why she couldn’t get the IUD out. She could see the string, she told me, but couldn’t grasp it enough to get it out. After an hour, she told me that anesthesia was my only option. I thought immediately to myself, “I’m never coming back here again.” I walked out and called my best friend again (thank goodness for community, I don’t know how I would have navigated the fear and anxiety without her).
I decided to go to an ob/gyn recommended by a friend who had just had a baby, and had loved her birth experience. I figured if she felt safe in the most vulnerable and intimate time of her life, then my little old IUD removal wouldn’t be as horrifying as the past two experiences. The doctor was immediately on my side, explaining that she wasn’t even going to perform a vaginal exam, she could see how scared I was, and scheduled me immediately with the surgeon. I was so grateful, I could feel relief flowing off of my body. The surgeon made me feel the same way. He did ask to try to remove the IUD vaginally, but promised not to try for more than 30 seconds. He explained that he didn’t want to waste my time if it would come out, but also didn’t want to put me through what I’d already experienced. He tried for exactly 30 seconds, said, “Surgery is going to be your best option.” and had me on my way for an ultrasound.
After that experience, the rest was “smooth”. I had the operation, the IUD came out without any problems, and I went on my way (we can talk about the insurance of it all in another blog post, I need about 10,000 words to explain my deep hatred of the medical insurance world).
After that experience, my partner and I discussed birth control options together. I knew that I needed something, so I decided to try the pill again. I knew within a month that it wasn’t for me. The side effects - bloating, mood swings, cramps, and fatigue - made me feel like I wasn’t in control of my own body. I quit after two months, knowing that there had to be another way.
At the same time I was going through this, I was also training to become a birthworker with Bebo Mia. The program started with a basic overview of charting for ovulation, and my mind was blown. Here I was, at the age of 34, having never heard of cervical mucus before. I was HOOKED. I started to read books, listen to podcasts, talk with all my friends, and research research research everything I could learn about fertility awareness-based methods of birth control.
My FEMM cycle chart from May-June 2024 (can you spot my charting mistake? Email me here and I’ll buy you a cup of coffee!)
I decided to further my training and took a course through FEMM to become a fertility awareness educator. One of the biggest takeaways I had from this course was that FAMBs aren’t just for people who are either trying to get pregnant or trying to avoid pregnancy. Understanding your own unique cycle patterns is one more “vital sign of health” - as written about in the fabulous book, The Fifth Vital Sign by Lisa Hendrickson-Jack. Your cycle can speak to you, give you clues about what’s going on in your life and in your body. I’m going to continue to blog in the upcoming months about different facets of fertility tracking and knowledge, so stay tuned for upcoming blogs!
Are you interested in learning about FAMBs for birth control, pregnancy, or for overall health? Click here to connect with me!
