I want a baby, but I’m scared. First, I need to have my Mirena IUD removed.

I worry because I have endometriosis and I worry about how I will be without contraception.

I worry because I hear about other women who have Mirena IUD removal side effects.

I worry because I am neurodivergent and feel less able to handle the changes and sensory input a baby will bring.

The Mirena IUD side effects can be really unhealthy long term, so I can’t continue with this as my endometriosis treatment option. I wish I had known before what I know now. Not just masked my symptoms with hormones, but instead got to the root cause, actually healing my body not suppressing it. But I am ready now.

For the past year or two, I’ve worked hard to love myself, accept and understand who I am, and become the best version of myself. Now, I fear I’ll mess it all up by literally growing another human being.

After over a year of mental preparation—moving the date back, doing breathwork, having two womb massages, a yoni steaming, energy work, calls with friends, and countless hours of research on diet and hormonal regulation. I embarked on my first consult with the gynaecologist about how a Mirena IUD was removed. We talked about what I would need to support myself too, as genealogical procedures are extremely triggering to me.

Day of the Mirena IUD removal

I had blocked the whole day out, minus an unavoidable meeting in the afternoon, and the following day was marked as ‘rest’ on my calendar. My lovely husband, Adam, was with me. He was well-versed in supporting me through my endometriosis pain—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I walked into the doctor’s surgery. It was purple, women-run, and decorated with multiple awards and displays on the walls.

I took ondansetron (an anti-nausea) beforehand because I planned to use the green whistle, and I wasn’t sure if it would make me sick. I am unable to take anything stronger than a Panadol for my pain without severe side effects, but from what I could find in my research, the green whistle worked differently – so I thought I’d be okay.

I felt like I had waited an eon, despite them seeing me only ten minutes late. I walked into the room and removed my underwear and placed the cloth over my groin.

A doctor should explain before they act

My gynaecologist was so lovely, she had a gentle kind and intelligent voice. She walked me through the whole procedure in detail before doing anything—and I mean, in detail!

I loved this because it made me feel more in control, which is a great thing to make a woman feel before invading the very part of her that is sadly, so often associated with a lack of control in this world. Then she explained each thing before she did it, even leaving processing time before taking the action.

This wasn’t a matter of saying ‘I am parting your labia’ and then yanking me open.

The gynaecologist would explain each action, allowing me to mentally repeat the phrase before she performed it. This really comforted me. I often feel rushed as I can be slow to process information with my neurodiversity. The added pressure of fear and anxiety meant that I was even slower than usual.

The wait time she was affording me, was incredible, as not only was I in control, but I also wasn’t rushed. I felt seen and understood, like I was important enough for the time to be spent on me. This wasn’t some local GP opening me up and yanking on a string! Apologies to local GP’s – I have experienced such brash behaviour before.

Pain medication for Mirena IUD removal

The gynaecologist started by giving me the green whistle and had me suck on it. Now before I continue, you should know, you can absolutely do this procedure without drugs! It apparently only takes about 30 seconds to do the Mirena IUD removal, and then a few minutes to open you up with the speculum. It is much like a pap smear but rather than a swab going in, the Mirena IUD comes out. They do suggest Panadol and ibuprofen but generally say it only hurts for a moment and then will cramp for a while after. 

I have experienced so much vaginal trauma in my life, most prominently from doctors – that I did not feel like I wanted to put myself through more stress for the sake of sobriety. I also didn’t want to experience any more pain in that area than I already had. So, for me, deciding to use the green whistle was important.

Mirena IUD insertion

An important thing to understand if you, like me, had your Mirena IUD implanted during a surgery is how it works.

I did not, and many of my friends were also not informed that a Mirena IUD goes in through your cervix. Your cervix is at the top of your vagina. This is open ever so slightly to allow discharge or blood out depending on where you are at in your cycle, but otherwise, it is a very small opening. It is what connects your uterus to your vagina.  The only time your cervix should be really open is when you are having a baby, otherwise, it is approximately a one-inch-long narrow wall.

Image credit: Drug Watch

I have heard from many friends who were conscious when they had the Mirena IUD put in that it was the most painful experience of their life.

Even those who have had children, said that the Mirena IUD implantation was worse than childbirth. Now I know everyone is different, but these reports are from EVERY woman I know. I had mine done during my laparoscopies for endometriosis so I never had to experience this – however I was never told what putting it involved.

If you have ever seen those screws that go in the wall and then push out. That is essentially how a Mirena IUD works. It is in the shape of a ‘T’, it’s two arms are folded down upon incision. Once it enters your uterus, the arms open up and it sits inside your womb. I don’t fully know why insertion hurts more than exertion but I think it is crime women are not made aware of how unnatural this process is.

Some reasons why getting the Mirena IUD in or out hurts:

• It stimulates nerves in the cervix
• Your uterus responds to the foreign object and cramps against it
• Manually opening the cervix is unnatural
• The length, tilt or shape of the cervix can prove difficult for doctors to navigate properly

Women are rarely given informed consent

I think that it is a crime that women are still not given INFORMED CONSENT about what putting in a Mirena IUD in actually does to your body.

I think it is criminal that women are sent home after gynaecological procedures with no aftercare and no pain medication.

For women, multiple women, to say that having this put in is worse than child-birth is disgusting! That doctors do not fully explain what is involved and do not offer appropriate pain medication or even support anaesthesia for it is vile.

Now removal is apparently nowhere near as bad, but I can’t imagine that a metal object going through your cervix would be anything other than painful. Especially for someone with endometriosis; many women find sex painful, and that is wanted – plastic speculums and foreign metal objects are by no means welcome guests inside a vagina or womb.

Green whistle for Mirena IUD removal

So, with all that being said. I took the green whistle and sucked! It took about two minutes for the green whistle to kick in before I felt, well… high.

The only other time I had felt like this was when I was given morphine for the pain upon presenting to Emergency prior to my endometriosis diagnosis. I looked over at my friend, told him in a happy voice he had a very good jaw line, giggled, and then five minutes later proceeded to vomit profusely for the following days. Safe to say why I don’t have anything stronger than a Panadol now. It was like a really relaxed drunk – I thought I was hilarious. I didn’t really care about much, and just felt very relaxed about the whole thing. There was still an underlying awareness, I was much more competent than a drunk person, but just far more dethatched.

I asked my doctor “Does the green whistle stop pain, or stop you caring about it?”

“Both” she responded.

I was grateful!

The Mirena IUD removal experience

My doctor laid me back a fancy chair with my legs in a stirp type position, similar to how you would have a pap-smear if you are both unlucky enough to have experienced it and lucky enough to have done it.

She used the smallest speculum as per my instruction. Previously a gynaecologist had told me, I was so tight I essentially wouldn’t let her in. Since then, I have become much better about learning how to breath and relax my vaginal muscles.

It is not uncommon for someone with endometriosis to be extremely tight as a protective mechanism against the pain. If you think about when your stomach hurts, you double over right? You tense your muscles and attempt to protect yourself.

The same thing happens with endometriosis, the constant pain triggers your muscles to tighten in an effort to protect. The issue is that this chronic tightness causes its own issues, and it can be hard for your brain to communicate with your vagina, friend from foe.

My doctor was very soothing, she soon explained she needed longer speculums so she could access the strings more easily to pull out my Mirena IUD.

Like a tampon, there are strings that hang from your Mirena through your cervix and into your vaginal cavity.

The new speculum hurt.

I winced, “Ow, I am really glad I am high.” I said sharply but still quietly.

The doctor replied “Ow as in you would like me to stop?”

I wanted her to keep going.  

The doctor was so comforting, so into consent, assuring me we could stop at any time, it actually confused me. She so thoroughly explained why it was good to stop whenever I was tensing, how leaving it as my decision was best, but somehow, I was baffled.

I had never experienced consensual language from a doctor before

The first reason I was confused was because I had never been spoken to by a doctor with such consensual language. Just a month prior when going to my GP for a suspected cyst rupture; she shoved a speculum in there without even telling me that was what she was doing.

The GP’s phrase was ‘I’ll have a look”

The next minus, she was parting my vagina, pressing on my citrous, and shoving a plastic speculum up me without consent.

Apparently, her mother never took her to a shop and said ‘look don’t touch’!

I flinched and winced in pain and all she had said was

“It’s okay.” Like some medical gas-lighter!

Sure, I wasn’t going to die – but that didn’t mean I was okay!

Being in control was good, but challenging

The second reason for my confusion was likely down to my autism. My brain works precisely and I see every small detail as a domino of events rather than a whole picture. If we could stop at any time, we would need to restart. It was not like I was going home without the Mirena IUD being removed – it couldn’t stay there forever. Wouldn’t it be better to just get it over and done with?

The other thing was, how would stopping help? It would just leave her stuck there. I guess that it could give me a break to focus on my breathing and relax my muscles.

Or if she wasn’t stuck there and ended up removing the speculum, she would have to put it back in again, which would be worse.

I was in no position to be telling the gynaecologist to stop. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable.

Lots of things hurt all the time, swabbing a wound with alcohol hurts, but it is necessary. I appreciated her giving me control over my own body. But this idea, especially in a medical setting was so foreign to me that it actually overwhelmed me in another way because I had all of this power and no idea how to use it.

Pain during the Mirena IUD removal

I sucked on the green whistle more. I thought it would do more for pain relief. I was very glad I had it. If it hurt like this with it, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like without it.

After a little bit of poking around and pain. I continued sucking on the green whistle like it was oxygen. The gynaecologist then tells me that she has some bad news. My Marina IUD strings are not showing through my cervix.

The doctor had some bad news

I sit up and she tells me that I will need to have a surgery to remove it.

I burst into tears.

I think there was so much anxiety, so much adrenaline in my system; that the disappointment sent me into some type of shock.

I had been prepared for this; it worked well with some time off work to allow me to regulate my hormones and likely have my first bleed before being at work again. I didn’t want to wait for a surgery, I didn’t have time for a surgery, how much would a surgery even cost?

The doctor sat me up in the chair, and explained what would happen next.

Surgical Mirena IUD removal

The gynaecologist would be my surgeon; reception would book in a date with me.

What would happen:

1. They would open my cervix and then surgically remove the Mirena.
2. It would only be a day surgery and the procedure would last about thirty minutes.
3. I would be under anaesthetic but I shouldn’t need strong pain killers for the pain.
4. I would defiantly need the following day off work to recover.

I felt more than simply disappointment. I felt failure, which is strange because I didn’t do anything wrong. Well, my body has gone and sabotaged me.

“Ha-ha little stringies, we shall suck you up and may you pay lots of money to retrieve us… mwah-ha-ha… no babies for you.”

I try to remind myself about how I want to live, who I want to be. I am working on being the very best of myself, more acceptance, more trust, more love.

It’s not bad news, it’s good news in disguise

I reframe the experience in my mind. True or not, I would prefer to brain-wash myself with positives over negatives. So often my internal dialogue, the narratives I have told myself, has been that everything goes wrong and it all sucks. I want to live a life of abundance and joy and miracles though, so I choose to tell myself a different story.

For whatever reason my body or soul needed, I have manifested this reality. I have created a world where my strings are gone and I need to wait. Whether that be created from fear because I didn’t feel truly ready, so this was my body trying to protect me, or if it was done from love. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time and waiting would serve me better, allowing me to have a better experience. It doesn’t matter why; it matters that it is.

What does matter is that I decided that this is the best thing for me, because regardless of the motives being labelled ‘good’ or ‘bad’, they simple ‘are’. This is my reality, and my reality is okay.

I am sad that it isn’t how I planned it because I thought it was a good plan, but I choose to believe that it was still for the good of the whole. When I say the good of the whole, I mean everything – my body, mind, relationships, the time I take off work later, when I take it off, the experiences I have in the hospital, the support I have surrounding it.

I believe in magic, magic as in God, the universe, quantum physics, and I believe that everything is in its rightful place. I get to create that place, build that reality and I accept and choose one where everything goes right. Even if it looks like it’s going wrong.

So, off to surgery to get the Mirena IUD removed… again… see you in the next one.

If you would like to know more about the healing measures I took to feel ready for this change, have a read of my article on my first womb massage. Or, If you would like to know more about how the surgery went, what my experience was like and how I felt after, including any side effects I experienced. Check out my next article on the Mirena IUD removal that was done surgically.

To see it all happen – head over to my YouTube for more.