Showing posts with label Contraceptive Pill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Contraceptive Pill. Show all posts

7 Apr 2010

No Period, No Problem?

...was the tagline of an article in Ms. magazine a few issues back, and since it sums up what I'm about to muse upon, I've nicked it. The article was about the new generation of period-suppressing pills, which are basically the standard contraceptive pill tweaked about a bit. Lybrell, one brand of this type of pill, is already out in America, but however many times I ask my doctor and am promised 'it's coming next year', it has failed to arrive in the UK yet. The moment it hits the shelves, I'll be first in line at the pharmacy to pick myself up a pack. Presently though, I follow the advice of several different doctors and nurses, and simply take the regular contraceptive pill every day without the pill-free week break, and the results are identical. I haven't had a period for, oooh, at least the last nine months, and Christ is it a nice life without them.

Talk of period-suppressing tends to attract scepticism, fear and criticism, and mostly from women themselves (presumably men have got too wise to attempt to even enter the period debate, for fear of broken noses/kicked crotches). Objections are usually upon the lines of 'you're messing with nature', 'aren't you afraid of the side effects?' and 'it can't be good not to have periods'. OK, well, let's consider the first. Taking the contraceptive pill in itself is an act of 'messing with nature', as are all medications and medical procedures in the universe, and pretty much everything we do on a daily basis, from wearing spectacles, to dyeing our hair, to flying on aeroplanes. Granted, the risks vary, but my point is that if you object to any intervention with nature, you're not going to be taking any kind of pill, so my argument should be irrelevant to you. Personally, I'm happy to 'mess with nature' frequently and as much as required, as long as I'm informed about the risks and am making the decision free from influence. Believe me when I say that nature has messed with me enough to convince me that my life is only ever going to be happy and aggro-free when I'm the one in the position of power.

As for side effects, what people don't seem to realise is that any dangers associated with Lybrell are identical to the ones associated with any contraceptive pill. Yes, there are slightly increased risks of breast cancer and blood clots, but then there's the flipside of a reduced risk of cervical and uterine cancer. Yes, if you're dumb enough to smoke when taking the pill, your risk of heart attack, stroke and blood clots will be increased. The ony really difference however, is that you'll be exposed to 12 more weeks of hormones per year than you would be taking the contraceptive pill in the traditional way. For some women, constant exposure to what are often mistakenly called 'chemicals' (they're synthetic versions of the hormones that are already in our bodies, which I think is a slightly different kettle of fish) is too scary. However, to me, those 12 extra weeks are 12 weeks of my life that I'm going to get back from the tyranny of menstruation, of crushing depression, suicidal feelings, ruined underwear, jaw-droppingly agonising cramps, expense, mess and misery. To me, it's a no-brainer. Bring on the hormones.

The argument that 'it's not good not to have periods' could be associated with the above dilemma - surely constant exposure to anything, without a break, is a hazard? Perhaps - but then that is the same risk a person runs taking any medication long-term - be it blood pressure pills, thyroid medication, or anti-depressants. It's a risk people take in order to be able to live their lives. But, saying that women NEED to have periods for health reasons is simply guff. For one, the 'period' experienced during the pill-free week of the contraceptive pill cycle is completely artifically caused. It's the body's reaction to the stoppage of the hormone release which up til this point has convinced it that it's pregnant, and thus needs to retain the lining of the womb. Hormones stop, the womb sheds its lining. If you think about it, it's no less of a shock to the system than making your body think it's gone through a miscarriage. When someone phrased it like that to me, I understood much better why my body always experienced the pill-free week as a terrible, personality-altering trauma - my mind and body were both trying to deal with violent hormone fluctuations and the loss of a non-existent baby. It's no wonder I began to question the whole system that says I should happily endure this every month.

So, there's nothing 'natural' about the pill-free week, nor was it introduced for women's health - it was a condition of the first contraceptive pill's unhindered introduction into society imposed by the Church (who in 1961 still held a great deal of influence over legislation and public opinion). In short, the Church didn't want women thinking they had any right or ability to shake off the oppressive cycles of their bodies and therefore start running around shagging for all four weeks of the month. The makers of the pill also claimed that women they spoke to in their research liked the 'reassurance' of their monthly visitor, as it reminded them they were healthy. This, as we've seen above, is a false reassurance, as the bleed in the pill-free week has nothing to do with health and everything to do with the artificial hormonal regulation of the body's cycle. Personally, I think if women sought any 'reassurance' from their periods, it was the guarantee that they weren't pregnant, since seeking and using contraception was such a fraught and obstacle filled business that most women were used to just crossing their fingers and hoping that Flo would come to town soon. What we learn from this is that the pill-free week was only ever part of the original pill due to a mixture of conservative religious pressure and women's reliance on their periods as the only reliable indicator that they were not pregnant. No medical reason for it has ever been cited.

There's other aspects of history to consider too, when we question this idea that menstruation is natural, healthy and necessary. Today's average woman will experience something up to 400 more periods than her average ancestors, who lived shorter lives and spent more of that time pregnant or breastfeeding. So who's to say that the abundance of periods we experience today are in any way 'natural' or a good thing? Compared to our historical sisters, we seem freakishly over-active in the menstrual department. Considering how much iron and other vital minerals are lost from the body during menstruation, and its links to anaemia and brittle bone disease, there could actually be an argument for menstruation being detrimental to women's health. Oh, how I'd love to see that one on the evening news. And that's before we even get into the countless (wo)man hours lost on cramps, migraines, vomiting, depression, running around looking for a tampon. Oh, and the gazillion times in her life a woman will be not taken seriously, mocked or discriminated against for daring to have periods.
Perhaps if menstruation hadn't been such a disruptive experience in my life, and I was one of those women fortunate enough to experience non-painful periods completely free of mood-swings, I'd never have gone on the pill in the first place to control them (as advised by my doctor at the age of 16, now ten years ago), and wouldn't care that much about all of this. As it is, the destructive depression, sickening pain, mess, expense and inconvenience of periods have wreaked so much havoc on my life up until recently that I am proud to have used the medical establishment for all it's worth in order to wrestle back control of my body. If I never menstruated again I seriously doubt I would care; and if any woman thinks that's a drastic or unnatural statement to make, just take a second and think about what your life would be like if you never had to deal with your 'monthly visitor' ever again. I'm with Germaine on this - no woman would ever menstruate if she didn't have to.

1 Aug 2009

Oh, go on then

To discuss matters menstrual or gynaelogical on a feminist blog may sometimes feel like playing into the hands of those who believe that feminism is just an excuse to a) bitch and moan about men and b) go on ad nauseam (literally) about all the revolting things the female body does. Obviously the latter notion rests on the kind of schoolboy repression that leads men to run from the room like their backsides are on fire when an Always advert comes on, because as us feminists know, natural female bodily processes are something both sexes should be familiar with and take in their stride. Still, I've largely held off from going on about the trials and tribulations of having Wimmins Bits, partly because one doesn't want to be too predictable and partly because there's always so much else in the news to go on about. Still, as the news is just too depressing at times, let's look inward, no pun intended.

What got me thinking about what a minefield the female body can be was an article about how the IUD has fallen out of favour with US patients, and unjustifiably so. The author highlighted all the benefits of this method of contraception, and pointed out how other countries such as France and China, utilise it much more widely. Many readers on feministing.com, where the link was posted, shared their success stories too. One commenter pointed out that it's easier to list your horror stories with contraception than to say what went well, as if to pre-empt the various women who would inevitably come out of the closet to say "Noooo the IUD was a bag of shite in my experience". I would probably be one of those women, had I kept my appointment to go get an IUD fitted about 3 years ago. Instead, the speech that the doctor at the family planning clinic gave me about the possible risks scared me so badly that I didn't bother going. She said that the IUD could fall out during periods, could somehow get outside of the uterus and end up floating in the pelvic cavity (!), would really hurt to be put in, and could result in heavier periods. The latter would be enough to put me off, since I already suffer from excruciating periods with heavy flow and insanely bad mood swings, but a list like that pretty much sent me running back to the contraceptive pill. So yes, maybe there is something to be said about medical practitioners not recommending the IUD highly enough. I'll never know - I'm still too scared to try, to be honest.

However, the comment about not enough people posting their contraception success stories begged, in my mind, the bloody obvious question, what if you don't have any success stories? What if every method of contraception you've tried has been flawed, some so badly that it stopped you from living your life? Let's start, for example, with a list of the different contraceptive pills I've tried:

Cilest

Microgynon

Mercilon

Cerazette

Loestrin

Ovysmen

Cerazette

and at least one other whose name escapes me. Hey, it's been a long nine years of experimentation. My biggest beef with the pill is the (medically unnecessary) pill-free week in which your body goes into withdrawal, and my body's reaction to withdrawal is to become suicidally depressed. Not just 'blue', not just 'moody', or any of the other cute euphemisms with which PMS is often widely trivialised - I actually want to shoot myself, and possibly take a few people down with me. Few doctors have taken this seriously, obviously dismissing this as just part and parcel of the pill which us ungrateful bitches should feel lucky to be blessed with, but the ones that do advise me to simply miss the pill-free week and take my pills continously. This is what I'm currently doing at the moment; however after a couple of months, the body rebels and bleeds anyway, and I'm back to square one. There are pills designed for continuous use but they aren't available in the UK - I have been asking about their arrival since 2006 and every year get told they're coming 'next year'. In the meantime, the 5/6 periods I do have a year remain painful, violent, and nightmarish. So, room for improvement? I'd say so.

In between my various jaunts with the pill, I've tried other methods, largely because of my desperation to avoid the hormone lottery. I used the diaphragm for a while, but in addition to the complete lack of spontaneity it entails (the trip to the communal bathroom wrapped in a towel carrying spermicide and my trusty receptacle was not easy to do subtly in my boyfriend's halls of residence), I could never get one that seemed to fit comfortably. For all my wiggling, experimenting, and even a return to the doctor to check it was the right size and I'd put it in correctly, I could still feel it during sex. Having your boyfriend accidently 'twang' your diaphragm when it's sitting against your cervix is the kind of unpleasant surprise that brings tears to your eyes, let me tell you.

After that came the implant, which I was told could cause 'irregular bleeding'. However, I was assured that this settles down after a while, and most women end up having no periods at all. Woo hoo, let's go I thought. I had the implant put in in August. By March next year, I was still bleeding continuously throughout the month. Why, I wondered to myself, do they call it 'irregular', when it'd be more appropriate to call it TOO FUCKIN' REGULAR BLEEDING?! All the doctors could suggest was to put me back on the pill ON TOP of the implant to regulate my cycle. So much for being able to abandon the pill. We tried it for two months, came back off the pill, and it was bleeding city straight away. After a year of this ridiculousness, I had the implant removed.

Well, there are always condoms, aren't there? Yeah...there are, and yes they have their uses, but I'm someone who only wants to sleep with their regular partner, and likes our encounters to be as intimate as possible. Kids, I'm not preaching abandoning the rubber fellas, because god knows with our promiscuous, badly educated population they're needed more than ever. But I'm in a long term relationship where both partners have had STD screening, and I want sex to be skin on skin - no latex, no chafing, no icky love-glove. So it pisses me off that I've had such a hard time finding a way of controlling my own fertility that hasn't made me bleed continously, hurt me, or want to kill myself. And my response to the commenter on Feministing would be, I'll provide a success story when I finally have one to tell. For now it's just a case of sitting and waiting for when the medical establishment feels like offering me an alternative, and dealing with the ruined underwear and suicidal impulses when they continue to come.