Let me set the scene.

I'm pretty sure I mentioned how I was (so blissfully) on the pill for the beginning of my relationship with Ben, and then I went to donate blood one day, and my ordinarily good blood pressure was through the roof. The pill is known to increase your chances of hypertension, and so my OBGYN said nope, you've gotta go off it - and NO hormonal birth control. No ring, no shot, no patch, no pill - nothing. So then she told me to come in after her vacation and get fitted for a diaphragm. To be honest, I didn't actually think anyone even used them anymore - I certainly don't know anyone who does - but I said sure, I'll come on in. That was last week.

Right before the fitting, I told her that I'd rather use a cervical cap instead of a diaphragm (they're smaller and fit better), so she tried to fit one of them for me instead. Well, it turns out my cervix is too small for even the smallest cap, so that was out of the question. She fitted me for the smallest sized diaphragm available, and I was able to get it in okay at the office, so she wrote me a prescription (which my insurance wouldn't cover, so I had to pay the $65 for it - thankfully I can get it reimbursed through my USA account) and last Thursday, I took the diaphragm home.

I tried to like it, really I did, but I would be lying if I said it worked. I hated this thing. With a passion. That night I was so supremely PMS-y (the pill did wonders for my PMS) and moody and upset for no good reason, so I can't say it was probably the best time to try it anyway. Ben was in my room practicing the violin, so I figured I'd just pop on into the bathroom before my shower to pop that baby on in. My god, I could not get it in. You have to fill it with spermicidal jelly, and coat the rim, and then fold it in half, and keep it folded until you release it around your cervix. I couldn't keep it folded, and the jelly was getting everywhere, and then I dropped the damn thing and then had to wash it and start over again because it was coated in cat hair, and then I tried again and I STILL couldn't get it to work, so I just started bawling, and took a shower and then came into the bedroom and threw the diaphragm (in its case) on the table and started crying again and shouted, "I hate this fucking thing! We're not having sex tonight!" and continued to cry. Thankfully Ben was very sweet about it (even though he looked a little perplexed) - he hugged me and rubbed my back and comforted me.

So I just figured it was just a bad day with the PMS, and after that, I was able to get it in. But it never felt quite right. The first time, I felt crampy and uncomfortable (and you have to leave it in for at least 6 hours after sex) and just out of sorts. And each time we had sex with it in, I didn't enjoy it as much and Ben could never finish (and we had no problem when we supplemented with the contraceptive film in between). Not to mention that I felt so completely unsexy with the putting in process, all coated in the jelly and uncomfortable, and my god, the taking out is even worse - I'm not generally sqeamish, but goddamn, it's just gross the morning after.

So you'd think we'd just give up on the diaphragm, right? I was thinking about it anyway, but I felt like I should give it a good try, especially since I paid good money for it. So Thursday night we use it to the same results, and Friday I take it out in the morning before I go into work. I went into work late because while here I've been having an unfun week with the diaphragm, I've also been teetering on the edge of a cold or something (I'm starting to think I'm having trouble with my air conditioner filter - I cough and wheeze while it's on, but feel just fine once I'm outside.) Can I tell you, it's not been a great week? So I got to the office around 11, and at 12:30 my coworkers decide to go out to lunch. I went to the bathroom before we left - by the time we got to the first floor on the elevator, I felt like I needed to go again, but that seemed ridiculous. One and a half blocks later, I really did have to go again, and then this time it hurt a bit. Goddamn! I was so frustrated, because I knew that the freakin' diaphragm can cause urinary tract infections. I ordered a glass of cranberry juice, and went back to the bathroom. I must have gone easily every five minutes, and I was increasingly uncomfortable. I was having trouble listening to my coworkers and was sort of staring off into space, when they said that I didn't look well at all, and suggested that I should just skip lunch and call my doctor. By that time I was in so much pain, I did. And by the time I got to the office to call her, I was in horrible pain and there was blood in my urine. This was all in the course of maybe 20 minutes!

So I called my doctor's office, sobbing, and told the nurse my symptoms, and she said that it sounds like a bladder infection - come on into the office as soon as possible. So I took a terribly long and uncomfortable cab ride over - the traffic was awful - and by the time I got there, I was crying again, I just couldn't stop, the pain was just excruciating. The nurse took my BP and weighed me and told me to strip from the waist down and I thought the doctor was going to give me an exam and I was just so panicky from the prospect of the pain (sorry for the unintentional alliteration) and I couldn't stop going to the bathroom (except only a trickle of bloody urine would come out, and it felt like I was peeing ground glass) and I couldn't stop crying and finally the doctor came in and told me that she wasn't going to examine me, it would hurt too much, and she even gave me a hug, and some prescriptions, and I just had to do a urine sample. So I figured I would just hop in a cab home and go to Rite Aid and rest. But traffic was just so bad - it took over an hour to get home - for the last 20 minutes, I was crying yet again, and it cost me $25, and Rite Aid didn't even have my prescriptions, so I had to find another pharmacy, and at this point my bladder was on fire and I could barely walk and I had to go so badly - by the time I got home, I just made it into the bathroom in time, and there was SO much blood, and it hurt so bad I just wanted to pass out.

Thankfully, that was the worst of it. Keith picked up my medicine for me (and cranberry juice, and yogurt to stave off a yeast infection) and by the evening I wasn't in so much pain - now I'm just uncomfortable and cranky that I can't go anywhere because I can't be very far from a bathroom at all, not to mention sleepy since I couldn't sleep more than an hour without having to pee, and the antibiotics are making me a little fatigued anyway.

Writing this out has made me feel a lot better than when I started, although I'm just so frustrated with my body. All of these fucking reactions to stuff. I feel so vulnerable and fragile and unappealing and wrong. I don't understand it - I've always been healthy, and here all of a sudden the smallest things are making my body go screwy, and I don't know what to do about it. Not to mention that it makes me very scared that Ben's gonna fall out of love with me or something because of all my goddamn reactions. Why would he want to put up with my PMS and my hypersensitivity to birth control and the "I can't go out this weekend because I'm sick" stuff? Because he loves me, that's why - I know that's the truth but we're still new together and what if I'm not really worth it?

Ugh. I think I'm gonna go take a nap and my antibiotic and maybe the rest and the medicine will help. Let's hear it for a more cheerful entry next time!