Intrauterine Device

The hour and a half spent thigh-to-thigh with Karen Goodier spun off a number of later problems. [link]

Quick précis: My first sex-education experience occurred in the company of my mother and a girl class-mate by the name of Karen Goodier and her mother. It wasn't so much Sex-Ed as Repro-Ed. It left me with scars for life, to wit:

Red-faced and self-conscious, I forgot to take notice of the content of this Repro-Ed presentation. My awareness was of the proximity of Goodier, the fact that her mother, an adult stranger, was sitting next to her. Normally one of those kids who gulped down information, this particular area - vaginas, penises, "love", tadpoles, eggs, canals and uteruses - failed to excite any interest. Too embarrassed.

Plus I could smell Karen, a most distracting thought.

In subsequent Repro-Ed classes, focus quickly shifted to not reproducing. With clinical coolness that only a dedicated professional can muster, the visiting educator showed us the panoply of counter-preggo tools. Condoms, obviously. The pill, of course. And then there was something called the "Copper 7" an intrauterine device. As she talked, she passed this evil-looking device back and forth from hand to hand, explaining how it worked, percentage success rates and something about retrieval.

This is where my not paying attention earlier came to haunt me. With a flawed understanding of female internals, I couldn't figure out how both my penis and this metal device would fit comfortably inside a girl. Protective of my sensitive-skinned dick, the thought of inserting it into a thusly-equipped female and having the poor little thing (my penis) scraping the IUD horrified me.

Was sex all about finding room up there for that thing and my appendage?

Yeah, forget that. I headed off to kick a footy.



My post about my introduction to sex ed. [link]