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Personal Note:

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Poem

Getting an IUD feels like…
A needle in a haystack.
Except your uterus is the haystack
And the needle, it’s really in there.

It’s not a single garment below the waist,
Bare butt, bare back.
It’s lying down where many women have lied before,
Head wrinkling the tissue pillow,
Legs sprawling,
Wiggling feet into the stirrups.

Getting an IUD feels like…
Running a marathon.
Except you’re running on hot coals
Without legs
And only your vagina can touch the ground.
Oh, and there aren’t any water stations,
No one is applauding,
No one is screaming your name.

I didn’t know that the metal would be so cold,
Or that home would suddenly feel so far away,
With unfamiliar hands in, I suppose,
Not-so unfamiliar spaces.
Goosebumps.
Everywhere.
Feeling every hair rise across my skin,
I feel my insides reject unwanted guests.

Getting an IUD feels like…
Presenting a blank canvas before Da Vinci,
You feel a cavern of shame hollowing your body,
And you wish you could just turn all emotion off for a while.
It feels like…
A child shrieking, 
Clawing between your ribs
And you try to ignore it,
So you barricade your brain,
And force your mind to transport you someplace beachy.
It’s wanting to say “no”
But “yes” is all your lips remember,
Telling yourself that it will be over soon,
Telling yourself: 
If you made the decision to open your legs, you should be prepared to face the consequences.

But
I should tell you:
I was not alone among the doctors.
There were Tevas with socks,
And cutoff daisy dukes leaning into my elbow,
There was warm hand and a loving heart right by my side.
She let me squeeze as tight as I wanted,
And even bought me ice cream on the ride back home.

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