Cold Spaghetti

In the midst of crying children, attempts at cleaning drywall dust, painting, cleaning up paint from doors that aren’t suppose to be painted, and ongoing gutting of the outbuilding, Aunt Flo came to visit.

Which reminded me that a few weeks ago, I picked up a Diva Cup.

Yes. This is a post about menstrual products. I gave a warning.

Sooo… my deal is this. Whether because of the internal scaring caused by Will’s delivery or just the changes from having babies, I have been unable to use tampons and have incredibly intense cycles. There is likely some sort of dysfunction somewhere, I do fit basic menorrhagia definitions. I did at least try to start investigating these things, but the process is stalled for now. The point being that I can use a lot of product in a month. It’s expensive. And if I want to bond with all my earth muffin sisters, I gotta get on the going green flow. So to speak.

Back to the Diva Cup. It was on sale, it came with a free gift, and so I bought it. It looks like a dixie cup with a rounded bottom. It’s made of flexible, soft plastic. And the idea is that you fold it up, stick it up, and it pops open… magically catching all that endometrial excess. Sort of like the bucket you put under the sink to catch the leaks when the pipes drip. Upkeep involves periodic emptying and a cleanse. But that’s it.

Sound gross to you? Puh-leeze. Gross is chemically treated cotton fibers left in your hoo-ha. Gross is scrubbing blood out of sheets because everything leaked… again. Gross is that wad of cotton starting to fall out mid-swim because the pool water got up in there and caused it to swell. A little reusable cup? Comparatively, no, not gross at all.

Tonight, before taking a bath, I tried it. I was really not in the head space for anything new and didn’t spend a lot of time reading the instructions. At first, I wasn’t even wanting to bother to wash it off (no, no, of course I did). To insert it, I sat on the can and followed the directions. It went in so easily, so quickly, and so effortlessly that I wasn’t even sure if the thing had opened. Still seated, I couldn’t feel a thing.

Then I saw the final step, that whole IMPORTANT! step, about grabbing the stem and turning it. What? I went back in to find the stem and turn. Was it turning? I couldn’t tell. But it seemed like all the messing around was screwing up the placement and I figured a good taking out practice wasn’t a bad idea. So I reach further, grabbed the base, squeezed it and took it out.

It, too, was easy. Really easy. And looking at it, there was evidence it was already working.

At this same moment when my hands were uh, occupied, Kate ran in the room, slammed into my legs, and knocked the Diva Cup out of my hands and into the toilet. (No, no, the water was clean. But still.) I had to fish the darn thing out to a hundred Kate-questions about why I was playing in the toilet. After another thorough wash I went back to my position on the can and re-inserted. Again, it seemed fine. I stood up and thought I could feel it, similar to how I can feel a tampon but not quite as uncomfortable. Maybe this time I didn’t insert it quite right? But I decided to live with it.

The bath was absolutely fine. And no red drips on the towel afterward (a problem I had with tampons). I would feel confident swimming with it. I do feel the stem (although this may be due to problems with insertion) if it keeps up, I may look into trimming the stem. But so far, I’m giving the product a thumbs up.

Any other market testers have advice?

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UPDATE: The first two times I used it were great. Then, suddenly this morning, the magic disappeared. I cannot get it to work today… it’s leaked ALL DAY LONG. Ironically, I thought I was getting better at inserting it because I haven’t been able to feel the stem. Damn. Any advice?

ANOTHER UPDATE: There is a learning curve with this thing. I’m getting better, I think. Even with the curve, I’m voting it number one option.