You guys know my uterus ate an IUD, right? When Doc tried to remove it, it BROKE, which apparently “never” happens, and so I had to go under anesthesia for a hysteroscopy to try to locate and remove the remaining piece of the IUD that is still stuck up in my hoo-ha.

That procedure was unsuccessful.

Afterward, I stuffed my feelings with food for a few days and refused to exercise until suddenly one day I decided I was Wonder Woman and could return to my normal running distance of five miles with absolutely no working back into it like an intelligent person would do. Also I thought it would be a fantastic idea to run in the middle of the afternoon when it was a hundred freaking degrees outside.

I did hear that logical inner voice that says, “maybe wait ’til later when it’s cooler, and perhaps only run two or three miles,” but I told that bitch to shut the hell up. This is MY body; I am SICK AND TIRED of things happening to my body that are totally out of my control! MINE MINE MINE!

As I began mile four I was so over-heated that I broke out in goosebumps. You know something’s amiss when you’re getting goosebumps in hundred-degree heat. So I switched to the shady side of the road and walked, which is basically the same as quitting for me. I HATE WALKING.

After about a half-mile of walking I felt better and decided I could run the remaining mile. But my body had other plans…

Yes, I’m going to talk about poop.

Again.

I had been logically concerned that any cramps would stem from the uterine region, but ohhhhhh NO. These cramps were of a different variety. And I still had a half-mile between me and my toilet. If you’ve ever had the experience of I-MUST-GO-NOW-OR-I-WILL-DIE, you won’t be in the least bit surprised that I was weighing the following options:

1) Pooping in the bushes. People would definitely see me and there would be no hiding what I was doing, because (OF COURSE) the lawn guys were there that day. But at least it wouldn’t be…

2) Pooping in my pants. Because maybe, just maybe, I could make it home before any leaked out and marked me as a total lunatic and social pariah in my idyllic gated community of people who always keep their flower beds free of weeds and their sidewalks edged and bleached.

3) Knocking on one of my neighbor’s doors and explaining that I had recently had a “procedure” done (because then maybe they’ll feel sorry for me) and I was having an “emergency” and could I please use their bathroom?

4) Trying like hell to make it home before any of the first three options became unavoidable.

I went with number four. If you had seen me walking those last few steps to my house, there would have been no question in your mind as to what my problem was. No one waddles like that for any other reasons besides they are squeezing their ass-cheeks together in a desperate attempt to prevent an impending explosion.

Throwing my hat, phone, headphones, and water bottle on the ground and ripping open my garage-door’s keypad would have clued you in if you found the waddling confusing. As the garage door was opening, I wanted to bend under it and run inside to get to the toilet faster, but I was afraid to bend, lest… well, you know. That’s how bad it was.

But I made it, you guys. I successfully did NOT poop my pants. Sometimes you have to celebrate the little victories. Of course I blame all of the foregoing on my embedded IUD and the subsequent procedure, rather than on my inability to use common sense. IT’S ALL THE IUD’S FAULT!!!

Several days later, I was sitting at my computer when I felt a funny feeling… women, you know that feeling you get when you just know aunt Flo is coming, like right now and you better getcho ass in the bathroom? That feeling.

If blood grosses you out, get out now. GET OUT NOW BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.

The second I stepped into the bathroom, I felt a gush. I horrible, awful, no-this-is-NOT-happening GUSH. A through-the-underwear, through-(my favorite)-denim-cut-offs, all-the-way-to-my-knees gush. Horrified and one-hundred percent certain I was dying, I sat down on the toilet, only to experience another disgusting torrent of blood that filled the toilet and turned the water black.

I’m shaking as I write this. Because I honestly thought I was dying. I barked at my three-year-old to go get my phone while trying to hide the blood from her as much as I could. “Mommy’s got a little booboo, but don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt!” *big fake grin*

Who do you call first when you think you’re about to die? 911? Husband? Neighbor? (To come get my baby so she doesn’t have to watch and end up one of those sad stories you hear about where the little toddler is left alone with a body for a few hours? OMG.)

But the bleeding stopped, or at least the gushing did. And after taking a few deep breaths I was able to take stock of the situation, i.e., no pain, bleeding has slowed down, I wasn’t light-headed. So I called my doctor. As I dialed, I saw one little brown eye peeking at me through the crack in the doorway. “I don’t like what just happened, mommy,” she whispered.

Two hours later I was having an ultrasound performed, which revealed that everything was “fine.” It seems that my cervix was blocked and was preventing normal blood-flow from escaping the way it typically should after the kind of procedure I’d undergone. Plus the intense physical activity… that makes you bleed more. I think I was “storing” blood in there for about four days. Effin’ GROSS, huh?

This morning I had my post-op appointment. Doc explained in more detail how my IUD is embedded. It’s fully inside of my uterine muscle, which is why he couldn’t scrape it out with a hysteroscopy. Which explains why I now have this mental image of my uterus, laden with glowing and humming electronic paraphernalia, saying things like, “You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.”  

WTF, uterus?

Doc also clarified that when we’re talking about removing this thing and he says “hysterectomy,” he’s not talking about a total hysterectomy. He’s talking about taking only the uterus, but leaving the ovaries and cervix. In spite of sounding super-GROSS, this would leave me more or less intact for a woman my age, meaning I wouldn’t have to go through menopause at the tender age of thirty-four. I’ll probably end up doing that.

But later. For now, I’ve got other shizz to do, like train for Tough Mudder, which is coming up this November. We’ll see how I feel after all of that and then reassess the situation.

Okay, I need to take a second to get all mushy-gushy on you guys… Every time one of you comments and says something supportive, or funny, or any random crap that just lets me know you care, it gives me warm fuzzy feelings. I seriously almost cry sometimes. Especially with all this IUD stuff, it’s been so comforting knowing that I’m not alone and that you awesome people are sending all that positive juju my way. So really really really: THANK YOU.

I am probably the only person who thinks this is hilarious.

40 Comments

  1. That is just too much. I’m sorry you are dealing with a rogue IUD. I hope it all gets sorted out and the course of action is best for you. And no, you’re not the only one who thinks that image is hilarious. 🙂

  2. Were y’all done having babies? If my doctor said hysterectomy to me, I would swoon. It’s a lot for a girl to take in, how do you feel about it? I would be so pissed off. Surgery freaks me out.

    • We’re done. I did swoon. Surgery freaks me out too! I’m trying to be Zen about the whole thing right now… I’ll wait until after Tough Mudder to have feelings.

  3. I’m laughing my ass off because you are funny. And then I’m hugging you tight because that is a lot to deal with. Hang in there an keep us posted. And sic that bad ass uterus of yours on those trolls!

    • And now I have a mental image of myself holding a post-surgery bloody uterus in my hand, getting ready to pitch it at someone like a baseball. lol

    • Meh. At least I can still jog. But I do have this crazy paranoia now, that any moment I could be going about my business out in public and suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, release a slasher-film-style torrent of blood all over the floor. Imagine that happening in the grocery store? My kid’s school? PRAISE JESUS that it happened while I was at home!

  4. Jill Duska Reply

    Eeek! Glad you’re okay though. I can sort of relate. After I had my C-section when my son was born, for some inexplicable reason, I started bleeding. This was about a week after I went home from the hospital. It was a LOT of blood, and it was continuous – I was in the bathroom every half hour changing my “protection”. It was a half hour drive to my doctor’s office and I barely made it without soaking through the biggest pad you can imagine plus my clothes. My daughter, who was only 4 at the time, had to come with me, and she was getting seriously freaked out when I climbed up on the table and blood was going everywhere (good thing the doctor was able to calm her down).

    • OMG!!! And you had to take your daughter with you?! Scary! I try to always dump my kids on someone else when I have hoo-ha visits. You just never know what’s gonna happen in that room… *shudder*

  5. Good god woman. That is definitely some shit to have to deal with. Honestly don’t even know what to say. But your picture is hilarious!

  6. This is my first time reading your blog and when you described your 3 year old peeking through the crack I laughed so hard. My daughter just started kindergarten yesterday and already it’s so weird going to the bathroom by myself. LOL. I’m sorry for your messed up uterus. Are you holding up with the news okay?

    • I’m okay, not that bleeding has more or less stopped. I’m trying not to think about it for a couple months so I can train for this big even in November, the Tough Mudder.

      Thanks so much for commenting! xoxo

  7. Kristen, I don’t know what made me laugh harder, the memories of standing guard while someone I know pooped in the bushes once or your “But I made it, you guys.”
    I’m so sorry about the runaway IUD. That’s the stuff of nightmares and my biggest fear about using that form of BC. Instead, after the twins my husband and I took the ‘basically stop having sex’ approach. It’s really effective birth control, especially if it nearly leads to divorce. I mean really, no unplanned pregnancies and your laundry load drops by one. Ok, bad joke. We’re still together, just not, you know, together.

    • GEEZ. That SUCKS. It is effective birth control though, you right about that, sista. Hope you guys can work it out (if that’s what you want).

      xoxo

  8. This line made me cry laughing because it sounds like something my three year old would say:

    “I don’t like what just happened, mommy,” she whispered.

    I have a Mirena IUD and now I’m a little afraid of it….

    • Honestly? I’d be a little afraid too, if I were you. The usual checks showed my IUD to be in a normal position (making sure the strings could be felt)… obviously it was NOT in a normal position. NEVER. AGAIN.

  9. I also think your cartoon is hilarious…after some serious anemia, I went to get my Paragard removed. Similar deal – strings were there, IUD wouldn’t budge, hysteroscopy got part of it, boy was it in rough shape. The pics have been circulating around my OB/GYN’s office…the bottom of the T broke off and the wire was all stretched out. Turns out the remaining 1 cm of plastic is embedded in my c-section scar! I am going to have ultrasounds every 4 months for now and take it from there. ‘Cause, apparently, what happened to me “never happens”! 😉

      • Cristina

        Yes, my doctor too had “never” seen what happened to me with the IUD. I got the iud shortly after my son was born (he is about to be 8). Last year i desided that I wanted to try for a third child. So i make my appointment to get it removed and I am so excited that day of my appointment only to come out in tears. Turns out, only a piece of the iud came out. The top piece was no where to be found. So he immidiately sends me for an ultrasound. After a day or so, my results come back and they tell me that the missing part was enbedded in my c section scar and i have to get surgery to remove it. Now my question is how does something that goes in your uterus end up there without damaging anything? Its been almost a year and I still havent been able to get pregnant.

  10. This was so funny and entertaining! I looove your writing and honesty. I’m a single mommy of three boys and my uterus ruptured and we seriously almost died so I can relate in certain ways. I was considering getting an IUD…..BUT NOT NOW. Thank you for the laugh, I needed it!!

  11. “You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.”

    OMG, I am DYING — the “sitting in my office with mascara running down my face” kind of laughing. I had a similar experience with Paraguard (the “nearly hemorrhaging to death for two weeks every month” part; not the “broken and my uterus ate it” part!), and your cartoon was one of THE funniest things I’ve seen in a while.

    Thanks for the laugh; how did Tough Mudder turn out??

  12. Hot Mess Mom shared this post and I think I love you! You are hysterical and right up my alley! BTW, I pooped in the woods a couple of years ago because I had no other choice, but it was from bad chocolate not an IUD. Not fun, especially when all you have in the car is a one-ply napkin from McDonalds. The hubs, I’m sure was totally turned on by that one. Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Does a mom s*@t in the woods? Why, yes she does! Looking forward to reading more funny stuff from you!

    • I REALLY wish there had been some woods to shit in! Those bushes wouldn’t have provided ANY coverage at ALL. :-/

  13. Kelli Miller Reply

    I knew it! My fear of IUDs is NOT unfounded! Seriously though, how you can make that situation that freaking funny is amazing. You are amazing.

  14. I will never get another or recommend and IUD to ANYONE. The majority of this is my fault. I didn’t check the strings regularly to make sure it was in the correct position. I wasn’t feeling right at all. Tired and achy and nauseous. OMG the nausea. I went to the dr and I was pregnant. We were all in full on panic mode and I was rushed to ultrasound to locate the IUD but it was no where to be found. What the hell?!?!?!?!That darn thing had come out and here I was all good and knocked up. Lots of people, myself included, asked how could you not know that it came out? Well, I have always had crazy heavy flow so that’s the only explanation I have. I got my tubes tied during the c-section and have never looked back. I wish my dr would offer to remove my uterus.

  15. Did you have the hysterectomy? I just found your blog after typing in “rogue IUD” to see if there were stories similar to mine. I have a missing paragard, and they have tried twice to find it. Doc thinks it’s embedded in my uterus or has passed through and is living elsewhere in my body. Just curious about how you’re IUD story ends.

    • I did not. They were going to try to remove it laparoscopically but when they did the ultrasound to locate it, it was gone. They also did an x-ray and still couldn’t find it. So that’s fun. :-/

      Let me know how yours turns out!

      • I too am searching for other stories As I’m going through th me same thing. Had my IUD 10years, it worked without a problem. Went Monday to have it removed and first the strings broke, then when the Dr. Finally got it out, it was missing an arm. My doctor was mortified. Ultrasound shows it embedded in the uterus. Going at the end of the month for a scope, but wondering if a hysterectomy is my next option. Not finding many outcome stories

      • I am in the same boat — IUD broken on removal and the arms are imbedded in the uterus. Had imaging today — not sure what comes next.

  16. You truly are a trooper …..so is my daughter who is going thru the same thing you are right now ! She’s had 3 procedures done so far ….can you please update me on what you next steps were and things docs told you …please? It would greatly help to see if they have suggested anything different to you …thanks so much and praying they have found answers for you ….keep that sassy attitude …love it !

  17. Woah. I love your writing. It kinda felt like you were telling me the story in my living room. You are hilarious and very refreshing. Enough with the gushing – I found this article because I’m in the same boat now. I turn 36 in a few months. We’ve delayed starting a family because we like spunking cash on holidays and fancy cheese and booze. Decided we’ve had enough of that, and to attempt baby making. Went to get my IUD out as it was in 10 years but the strings broke when the nurse tried. I had to come back for a ‘difficult IUD removal’ by a doctor. He was rooting around up there for aaaaages but it wouldn’t budge. Eventually he gave me a local anasthetic, and got *most* of it out. One arm is missing, assumed still up there. 3 weeks layer and I’m still waiting for my appointment to have an ultrasound to check where the fucker is. My gynaecologist said he hasn’t seen this in 25 years of practice. Hurray for my vacuum womb.

    I was also in a similar will-I-won’t-I-shit-myself situation a few years back after a wine and raclette night at my boyfriend at the time’s house. I wasn’t so lucky though. Shat myself about 100 yards from my house. It. Was. Explosive. It was also an unusually warm (for the UK) summer’s day, and I was wearing a pale coloured floaty dress with no tights. What a horror show.

    Can’twait to check out the rest of your blog. I really fucking hope you’re still writing, and sincerely hope all is well with your lady bits.

    T. x

    • I do need to write more. I have books out, so I don’t blog as much anymore. But I’m going to write a blog very soon, I swear!

  18. Kristen, I know this is old but thanks for the laugh. I have an appointment to have my IUD removed first thing next week and what do you know…. my IUD strings came out tonight and I can see the string snapped. No IUD in site. While my IUD didn’t break that I’m aware of yet I can only bet with my luck, that bitch is still up in there floating around now unsecured and strolling around my uterus. This was exactly what I needed to read while googling like a maniac .

    M

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