Twenty-three days post-IUD-removal, and figured it’s time for another TMI update on my cycles and my sex life. Maybe it’s not appropriate to keep coming back here, but I find the whole thing really, really fascinating.
First item of business: I am still attracted to Doug. I had some concerns about what happened between me and my ex after I was no longer hormonally enhanced – namely that I realized I wasn’t attracted to him in any way, physical or mental. While I had the IUD, I was attracted to no one, and so it didn’t seem to matter that my and Doug’s sex life was nonexistant. Now that it’s out, and I’m relying on my own body and my own hormones, however wonky they may be, I’ve found that I am attracted to people again. And, fortunately for all involved parties, the man I’ve chosen to share my bed with is one of them. Such a relief to know I won’t repeat my past after all.
We finally made it to Costco the other day to buy condoms. Apparently, Costco’s gotten frisky since my friends were buying Trojan megapacks, because instead of getting a big box of generic rubbers, we walked out with this classy silver tin:
The “Pleasure Pack” includes all sorts of ultra-sensitive, thin, and ribbed condoms. And one variety, simply called “Tropical,” which are colored and fruit-flavored. Just in case I didn’t already feel enough like an experimental teenager.
I’m gearing up to get my first period in two years: my boobs have been sore the past few days, and I think I even felt myself ovulating. I’ve never been so excited about getting my period in my life – not even when I was 14 and still hadn’t had one yet. With all the girls at school saying things like, “I’m flowing like a faucet,” or, “This pad is so thick, it feels like I’m sitting on a phone book,” I figured I’d happily wait forever for my first visit from Aunt Flo.* Now, though, I can’t wait for it to start, so I can start counting cycle days, tracking and getting to know my patterns, and setting myself up for success in another few years, when I’ll actually need this information to conceive.
It does make me a little sad, though, to think of all my recently acquired friends in infertility-blog-land, some of whom have been tracking their cycles for years, none of whom are ever excited for their periods to start, all of whom will probably read this and scoff, “Amateur.” I hope, with all my heart, that these women find the success they are looking for (although, I don’t necessarily want to read about it should they become pregnant), and that I remain, thanks to my one miscarriage, just a visitor in their world.
*Thanks to those lovely comments by my teenage peers, to this day, I have never worn pads… except after my D&C, as required by my doctors.