BREAKING UP WITH THE PILL
One woman’s quest to go hormone-free
It all started with a white-andlime-coloured box. I stood outside my local familyplanning clinic in my school uniform clutching a three-month supply of Microgynon 30, a variation of the combined pill, feeling smug. Having been told by friends that it would not only prevent pregnancy, but also boost my bra by three cup sizes, I was convinced I had the whole contraception thing sussed. Unfortunately, I probably don’t need to tell you that things weren’t exactly that straightforward. Since that moment on the grey steps in the blinding sunshine, school blazer thrown casually over my shoulder, I’ve spent a decade hunting for the “right” contraception, a mission that turned out to be tougher to crack than the Da Vinci code...
THE TEENAGE YEARS The combined pill
After just a couple of weeks taking Microgynon 30, I began to feel nauseous. So much so that I remember being unable to eat lunch because I thought I might vomit. I switched to taking the pill at night and things improved – my mood, however, did not. It’s hard to say whether it was general teenage angst or Microgynon 30 directly, but I was bloated, angry and irrational most of the time (and only partially because I didn’t wake up looking like Pamela Anderson as promised). A Danish study on more than one million women, however, suggests that the pill could have been to blame: it found women aged 15 to 34 who took the combined pill were 1.23 times more likely to be diagnosed with depression and prescribed antidepressants (a rate that jumps up to 1.8 times for those aged 15 to 19). After a year, I asked to be put on a different brand – first Yasmin (orange packet), later, Cilest (purple packet). The mood swings continued. So when my boyfriend and I broke up, I ditched the pill as well.
THE UNIVERSITY YEARS The mini pill
During my first year at university, my dad had a heart attack. Because of this new instance of heart attacks in the family and the onset of my first migraine, I was prescribed a progestogen-only pill (POP, also known as the mini pill) called Cerazette. Around this time, I also found myself plunged into another spell of depression, for which I was prescribed medication. I hated that, every morning, along with my black coffee and toast, I had to ingest two loads of tablets: some to shift the chemicals in my wonky brain, others to stop my periods. My body felt alien and synthetic. When the six-month supply I’d been issued ran out, I didn’t ask for any more and, instead, started thinking about going chemical-free. And I wasn’t alone.
“Although the pill is still the most popular method of contraception in the UK, we’re seeing a rise in the number of women who are interested in alternative contraceptive options,” explains Dr Lucy Buckley, co-founder of Dr Fertility.“We’re becoming more aware of what we’re putting into our bodies, too – from the food we eat to the ingredients in the cleaning products we use – and it’s the same with health.”
”My body felt alien and synthetic”
EARLY 20s Natural family planning
Having finally been diagnosed with polycystic ovaries at the age of 23, and taking my doctor at his word when he said,“You’ll probably need help conceiving,” I decided to use the Roman Catholic method of contraception (also called the counting or rhythm method) – via an app called Period Tracker.* On the calendar screen, it had green dots indicating the days that I was “fertile”. Green-dot days became “no-sex days”.
Until, somewhere along the line, I fell pregnant.“We’ve seen an increase in apps being used alongside alternative methods of contraception,” says Dr Buckley.“They’re good for prompting and recording information, but apps are susceptible to programming and user errors.” Some apps, specifically designed to be used as a digital method of contraception, such as Natural Cycles (the first app officially cleared by EU regulators), rely on women being able to measure their basal body temperature at the same time every day – a big commitment – which can be impacted by factors such as illness, lack of sleep and alcohol. On the Natural Cycles website, in the section aimed at medical professionals, it used to say that the app is not recommended for women who would be “devastated” if they fell pregnant within the next year, which doesn’t exactly scream failsafe (they state a 93% success rate with typical use, meaning, on average, seven in 100 women do fall pregnant using this method). I had an abortion following my pregnancy, and my boyfriend and I started using condoms without fail, instead of an app.
PRESENT DAY Copper coil
After taking many an online “What method of contraception should I use?” quiz, I booked in to have an intrauterine device (IUD) fitted. It appealed because it was completely hormone-free and didn’t require me to set constant reminders on my phone to pop a pill or check where in my cycle I was at on a virtual calendar before having sex. The appointment took around 45 minutes. The nurse measured my cervix, which stung but wasn’t unbearable, then fitted me with the copper and plastic device that prevents pregnancy for up to 10 years. Once it was inside, the nurse cut the attached strings – which he advised me to check were still in place once a month – and that was that. My periods are set to be heavier for the next few months and I’ve had some seriously strong cramps, but I can have sex without panicking about another unwanted pregnancy and my mood hasn’t been affected at all. Oh, and no, it won’t set off the sensors at Gatwick.
After 10 years, I’ve finally found a method I’m happy with. But what works for me might not for you, because here’s the thing: there is no “one size fits all” when it comes to contraception. Sometimes it feels like we invest more time and energy in working out what we want for lunch than we do our contraceptive choices. It’s OK to question the method you’re using, and listen to the signs your body is giving you if you do.