Act One, Scene One: I sit on my bed holding the bottle containing the pill I’m supposed to be using the night before insertion. Misoprostol 200 MCG. My doctor says that it will make me cramp a bit and that I should take four Ibuprofen. I assume that it will make me cramp a whole lot for him to suggest that much. Meh, that’s nothing new. I’m supposed to put this pill as far up my “vaginal cavity” as possible.

I love how clinical instructions always sound a little off. It makes it sound like my vagina is a large cavernous space. If you yell up it, would it echo? Let’s not try that.

Upon close inspection I realize that this pill appears to be an oral pill, not the kind you usually shove up your vag. Not that I’m in the practice of shoving pills up my vag or anything but it just doesn’t seem quite right.

Act One, Scene Two: I’ve decided to double check with the pharmacist to make sure that I have the right pill because this sucker is supposed to make the whole procedure much less painful. The last thing I want is for the pill to not properly dissolve, Dr. Dashing to start the procedure, and pull the pill out like, “WTF woman? Wrong pill.”

The pharmacist listens to my concerns about the pill and agrees that it doesn’t look right for the manner in which I’m supposed to take it. We dance around using the word “vagina” because he’s an awkward man and because we’re in a crowded Target.

He checks various bottles, some large book, and then the computer and comes back to tell me that this is the correct one. Despite looking like a large generic aspirin, it will properly absorb and do what it ought.

Act One, Scene Three: The night before my appointment I once again sit on my bed suddenly wondering exactly how I’m going to get that thing high enough to do what it’s supposed to do. My fingers aren’t very long. Um… tongs? Ouch, no. I’m definitely not close enough with any of my friends to ask them to help.

My own two hands it must be then. I get it as far up as I can but that’s not very far. Really, I have quite small hands. In a moment of genius/crazy-why-the-fuck-not, I decided that my old cylindrical shaped travel toothbrush holder was perfect for shoving it up the rest of the way. Success! Aaaaand I’m throwing THAT away now.

Act One, Scene Four: Things start to feel a little… odd. I’m not cramping yet but I can tell that something is happening. No, scratch that, there’s the cramps. Where’s my Ibuprofen?!?!?!

There are strange tinglings, movement, and sensations in places I’ve never felt before.

Act One, Scene Five: The next morning I get up, take four more Ibuprofen, and leave for the appointment. Five minutes from the doctor’s office I get a phone call from the doctor.

“We’re sorry; we have to reschedule your appointment because we’re out of Mirena. We just realized this morning.”

*blink blink*

“We’ll call the pharmacy and send in a new prescription for you for the next appointment.”

*blink blink*

“Let’s schedule the next appointment for this time next month”

Not Cool.

Intermission: I call back later in the day and schedule a new appointment for the next week. In the meantime I decide to do some research on Misoprostol. I’ve done my research on Mirena but I didn’t really look into Misoprostol. It’s out of character for me to put something in my body without first doing my homework on it.

Later that day when I was telling my mother about the pill and what it felt like, she tells me that what I described sounded like the early stages of labor. Minus the baby of course. When I look online I find that she is exactly right. Misoprostol is used to induce labor.

Stay Tuned next week for Act Two!

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