For the foreseeable future, I want my uterus to be a harsh place that can sustain no life.

Less than 1 out of 100 women a year will get pregnant after selecting an IUD as their form of birth control. Understanding this, and the fact that an IUD would not protect me against STI’s, I decided to bite the bullet and obtain an IUD of my own. The IUD pictured is the one currently in me. I selected Skyla, a hormone releasing IUD that lasts for three years. Skyla is relatively smaller when compared to Paragard or Mirena, and seems to be marketed towards younger women who have yet to begin their families. Honestly, I selected Skyla simply because it was the smallest of the three options.

If you are anything like me, you scour the internet not only for inanity, but to whip yourself into a frenzy over any conceivable medical malady. WebMD self-diagnosing is one of my favorite past-times. My OB/GYN fell ill on Friday, the day she was supposed to insert my IUD. My procedure was rescheduled for today. From Friday evening until 7AM this morning, I rummaged through various forums, blogs, webpages, anything, searching for information about what awaited me.

The majority of information I found was terrifying. Going off what I had read, not even the cenobites could unleash a grizzlier torture on a cervix. The credo seemed to be consistent, the pain I would be filling would be “THE WORST PAIN” of my life. My IUD would stab through my uterus like an extraterrestrial life-form in Alien. The device would discharge and expel from my uterus like a vengeful ghost. My OB/GYN was not my ally. My OB/GYN was a banshee, and a harbinger of my doom.

I should not have to tell you this. But. Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.

What actually happens is something far less sinister. The purpose of this post is to show a different perspective (when compared to other IUD insertion stories on the internet) on what occurs during a very standard women’s health procedure.

I left a staff meeting this morning and drove straight to my OB/GYN’s office. On the way, I played Amon Amarth and Ensiferum, in an attempt to hype myself up. I strolled up to my OB/GYN’s office ready to conquer anything, including a small “t” shaped piece of plastic and hormones. I was ready.

After urinating in a cup in order to ensure my uterus was empty prior to being inserted, and taking 600mg of ibuprofen, I tottered into the room my procedure would be done in, took off every item of clothing on my lower body, and waited.

It was in these moments that my courage began to waver. Doubt came as swiftly as a plague. What if the procedure went awry?

As soon as my OB/GYN entered the room, my fears began to subside. I pointed to tools that were laid out on a table next to the examination chair I was sitting in. When I asked if I could receive an anesthetic, my Doctor said that administering it draws out the IUD process and could make the whole procedure a bit more painful. That’s all I needed to here. I declined the shot. The insertion began. I was also pretty excited to have my uterus measured, and was somewhat bummed to find that my uterus is perfectly averaged sized.

Honestly, the pain was not as bad as I thought it would be. The most equatable feeling I have is losing my virginity (sorry Mom, but virginity is nothing but a social construct). Much like my first foray into consensual sex, the discomfort of receiving an IUD was over quickly, but the results were worth it. When the IUD was being inserted through my cervical canal and into my uterus, it felt as if someone was twisting my organs from the inside, but only for a split second. During the preparation phase (when the duckbill of death was placed inside me) I felt like I had to defecate, but once again, my Doctor said that this was normal.

To me, the worst part was not the insertion of the IUD itself, but instead, the intense cramping afterwards. Having never been in labor, I have nothing to compare what I felt to, except the feeling of very bad period cramps. After lying down for a bit, the Doctor allowed me to drive home, and I was able to go to work tonight with no problems.

Now, I do not want to take away from the experiences of those who had an IUD inserted and felt a great deal of pain. The experiences of those individuals are valid, and theirs, and nobody can take that away from them. That being said, in my opinion, IUD’s are worth the pain when compared to everything that you gain from them. I am ecstatic that my uterus (at least for now) can now officially be a haunted graveyard.