Who was it that said, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again”? I’m not sure they would have been so famous if they had tried the DivaCup. A few hours after writing my last post, I had to empty the cup for the night. Why I didn’t just wait until evening, we’re not sure! I was already tender “downstairs” from the earlier procedure, but I couldn’t leave it in more than 12 hours, so out it had to come.
(Warning: things might get graphic!)
Equipped with willpower and determination, I shut myself in the bathroom, bore down on the same muscles you’d use to take a dump, and fished for the grippy, pointy end of the cup. Finding it, I pulled with my fingers and pushed with my muscles, while trying to stay relaxed (yeah, right!). I ran into the same problem as earlier: the widest part of the cup, the top rim, was making a seal with the narrowest part of me, the entrance to my cervix. Since I’m such a newbie, I didn’t know how exactly to fix that, but the pain shooting through me shouted: “GET IT OUT!” so I knew that much at least.
At one point during the not-so-pleasant procedure, I bent over, breathing hard, wondering if I could safely and quickly get to the emergency room at the hospital, and what they would do. Surgery? Knowing that if I went that route, I’d be experiencing this nasty pain for much longer (and I’d look like a fool), I tried again, to no avail. That’s when I almost had a panic attack.
Somehow, I got through it and got it out, but there was no way I was getting it back in, not for several hours, at least.
Phew. Pain factor… barely tolerable!
Cleanup… I’m getting used to it.
Is it worth it? I really wanna believe it, but, if things remain so dang tight down there, this is not gonna be a fun game.