Warning: TMI

Today’s topic is menstruation and feminine hygiene products. If you weren’t warned by the blatant “Warning” notice above, then hopefully that will do it for you. If you aren’t fazed or just can’t help yourself, read on:

Sometime during high school, maybe when I was a sophomore, I took the leap from pads to tampons, and it was the best thing since sliced bread. Sliced bread in the clichéd sense, not sliced bread as a feminine hygiene product, although I’ve been told bread makes an effective moisture barrier when soldering plumbing. It was just so damned inconvenient to be so wet a third of the month (short cycles and long periods – where did this three days a month myth come from? I feel cheated), especially at night when I had to wear that pad that was like two feet long and was more like a diaper than a pad. Tampons were fantastic. All the blood stayed in until I was ready to take it out. Sure there were leaks sometimes, but wearing a panty liner was nothing compared to pads. Plus, less mess. Ah, those blissful, absorbent-free years between potty-training and puberty. How I failed to appreciate you!

Pads to tampons was a huge stride in minimizing the inconvenience of “being a woman”. And now, I believe I have taken the next step in feminine hygiene products. This was my first month with the Diva Cup, and so far, it’s the best thing since tampons. (I’m thinking “tampons” is going to replace “sliced bread” in my cliché inventory. Nothing like making people uncomfortable in everyday conversation!) I was especially pleased with the longevity of each use: I could leave it alone the recommended limit of 12 hours for all but my most heavy flow. It took some getting used to to be able to create the seal and if you don’t create the seal, you get some leakage. There was also some getting used to getting it out. One, I had to root around in there to get a good hold on the end in order to be able to turn it to break the vacuum, and two, if the thing was really full, there was a bit of mess when the seal broke. It may just take a little practice: I dropped the thing in the toilet the first time, and by the last time I was way defter. I think once I figure out how much time it takes to fill up half an ounce during each of the flow stages of my period, it’ll be easy. The thing holds a full ounce, but I wouldn’t want to let it get that full before emptying to help avoid spilling during removal. And actually writing all this down, it almost seems like I need the Army Corp of Engineers to help regulate the dam outflow to prevent flooding downstream. [rolleyes]

Even with the learning curve, there was way less leakage/residual mess with the Diva Cup compared to tampons. Add that to only having to change it a couple times a day as opposed to every few hours, and I thought about my period less than I ever have in my entire life, aside from my first overnight with it, when my subconscious was so worried about leakage that I was dreaming about puddles of blood (unfounded). No more making sure I have enough plugs with me for the day, less worry about leakage, AND! less garbage, so I’m greener too! And it’s cost effective. I think they recommend replacing the cup once a year, and I bought it online at Organic Pharmacy for about $30 including shipping and cleaning supplies, and I know I spend at least that much in plugs per year.

I think that if you’re comfortable with tampons and appreciate the improvement in control they give over pads, then you will probably like the Diva Cup. It’s obviously not for everyone: if you’re someone who panics when you lose the string on the tampon, then you probably won’t like it, because the mechanics of the Cup is very similar to a tampon without a string. That’s it for my product recommendation. I had never heard of anything like this until someone mentioned it on Ravelry’s martial arts forum. I’m glad I tried it – as I was counting ahead, I noticed I’ll be ragging during my trip to California, and this will make that a lot less inconvenient.