Goodbye, V-Card!

On November 11th, 2012, I lost my virginity.

. . .

THERE! I’ve said it! After… what is it, five or six years now that I’ve known something was wrong with my vagina? I can finally, finally say,

I AM NOT A VIRGIN ANYMORE.

So what happened? Nothing special, really — my husband and I were lounging around and he reminded me that we needed to work on dilating together again. I groaned about it, and he ignored my grumbling, pulled me up from my seat on the couch and into the bedroom. We practiced with the dilators, and like usual it was uncomfortable for a while and awkward throughout the rest of it. After that was through, we decided to engage in some adult activities that sounded a bit more fun.

I was enjoying myself thoroughly, and at one point the thought just entered my mind: We should try it. I was hesitant, like I always am, nervous about the pain and also wondering how to phrase this to my husband in a way that wasn’t… I dunno, awkward.

“Hey, um… Want to see if we can fit you in a little bit?”

Yeah. Not awkward at all. *insert sarcasm here*

So, we tried. At first, not much happened; like with the dilators, it took a couple minutes of gentle pressing at the entrance for anything to happen. But after a while, my muscles relaxed just enough, and I slid him in a good couple inches.

And for those wondering how it feels, it’s hard to describe, really… Stretched out, yes. Sore, definitely. But somehow… easier to bear, I suppose. I was worried that the flared head of the penis might feel like it could get “caught” in my vagina somehow, but I’ve never noticed anything like that.

I suppose I’m getting a bit ahead of myself here. Even now, months after this, I still can only last a few minutes before everything just gets far too sore. My husband still can’t move around much; we certainly haven’t been able to have either of us achieve orgasm yet. But sometimes we’ll be there together, embracing, him slowly moving in and out just a little bit, and despite the soreness, I’m thinking,

“You know what? I think I can kinda get why people like this…”

I wish I could describe it. It gives you a satisfying sense of… fullness? A bit of pressure on the internal portions of the clitoris, I assume (if we want to get scientific about it). It hasn’t brought me anywhere close to orgasm yet, and I know that 75% of all women need more than just penetration to orgasm, so I’m not holding out hope that someday intercourse will be as intense as direct clitoral stimulation.

But hey, if eventually I can bring my husband fully to orgasm that way, and thoroughly enjoy the time while we’re doing it… I’ll consider that a challenge fully overcome.

Dilating Report: Have You Looked At Your Vagina Today?

Finally got myself off my ass (or rather, back onto my ass) and dilated again today. I think it’s been… Oh goodness, I don’t even want to think about how long. Probably at least three weeks. Specialist Doctor would whack me upside the head if he knew that.

In any case, I spent about an hour wrestling with my two largest dilators, #6 and #7. It took quite a frustratingly long time to get #6 in, probably over ten minutes; I don’t know if my vagina was rusted shut from lack of use or what, but the very entrance just Would. Not. Budge. Eventually, with lots of coercion, lube, and help from the vibrating C-ring, it did go in most of the way, and it got much more comfortable once I gave it a few minutes to settle in. Dilators are so fussy.

I also moved up to #7 rather easily, and it got more comfortable than it ever has before! Mind you, that’s not a high bar to reach: previously it has always felt stretched too far, burned, stung, and remained sore for an hour afterwards. This time, it only burned, stung, and remained sore for an hour afterwards. I guess that’s a bit of a step up?

However, those of you who only have vaginismus should see this as a very hopeful message. The burning and stinging, I’m sure, is either vulvodynia or lichen planus at work, as it occurs right at the entrance or just inside. The soreness is very mild, and probably expected of anyone who hasn’t had any vaginal insertion for a few weeks. Anecdotes suggest that any time a lady takes an extended break from intercourse, it takes a session or two to get re-acclimated. (So for those ladies I know in long-distance relationships and marriages, I do feel a genuine compassion and camaraderie. Having every time feel like the first time can’t be much fun at all.)

Also, I’d like to mention a couple interesting things I noticed while dilating:

Changing up the angle of insertion can make a noticeable difference in comfort. At some point while inserting #7, I decided to place a pillow under my bum, and see if that helped — and it definitely did! Insertion felt more “natural” that way. I guess I can see why adult toy stores sell things like Wedge Pillows (NSFW)!

Also, in my bedroom, the closet doors are covered by full-length mirrors, so it’s easy to position myself in a way that I see… well, everything. Normally, I cover myself with sheets (out of some sort of protective instinct, probably), but today I was too lazy/warm for that, so after adding the pillow, I realized I could myself dilating in the mirror.

That was… bizarre, and a little disconcerting, as I’m not too fond of staring at my lady bits, but it was… empowering, too. I’m not a regular porn consumer, but I have seen enough to know what it looks like when a penis or dildo enters a vagina, and it always felt very… distant, and disconnected from me, almost like watching animals instead of people. Very clinical. Like that’s something others can do, but I just couldn’t comprehend my own body working that way.

But I got to SEE my own body working that way. I saw my own face peering out awkwardly above my vagina, and as I slowly slid the dilator back and forth, I could think, “That’s ME controlling that. I can do that!”

I should add, again, that this wasn’t a pain-free process; I still always feel a throbbing burn around the vestibule, which, so far, hasn’t been dimmed from the Anusol. (That may be more due to me skipping half my doses than to the drug’s own lack of effectiveness…) I can’t thrust or retract the dilator very quickly, because it feels like it’s causing rugburn if it moves too fast. And I had to stop after a while because I was just feeling too burnt and sore inside. It’s been an hour and the remnants of that soreness are still lingering a bit.

But I’m glad I got to really see myself making solid strides forward. It all seems a little abstract when we cover ourselves, close our eyes to the world, and then try to get in touch with our bodies. Maybe we all ought to be taking a closer look. Maybe then it’ll be easier to really see, and understand, the improvement we’ve made. Goodness knows I could always use a few reminders.

Vaginismus vs. Botox, Round Two

Oh goodness. So much has happened on the vagina front over the last 24 hours. I’m not even sure where to begin. I guess I’ll have to make this a two-parter.

So after another week or so of avoiding dilating (I’m the world’s most noncompliant patient… I’m aamzed Specialist Doctor puts up with me sometimes…), I gave it another go last night. I started with #6; I usually start with #5, but this time I was feeling a little euphoric and wanted to have my “magic moment” wherein I discover the Botox has kicked into full gear and all my pain is blissfully vanished.

Ha, no. It still took me several minutes to get #6 in, and when I did, I still got that rugburny stretching sensation, even after slathering myself in lidocaine. It felt like the skin was being pulled thin, like grabbing the sides of your mouth and yanking them apart, like I might tear at the edges if I pushed too far. But like before, after a couple minutes, my body acclimated to the dilator and the stretching began to subside.

And throughout this, I got so annoyed by the entrance pain that I hardly noticed… the internal pain was GONE. Just gone. Once the stretching pain subsided, I could barely feel the dilator in me at all! I could push it in around three inches and hardly notice. It was like the entire area had been numbed with a local anesthetic; I knew something was digging around in there, and poking in places that normally would scream and bite back, but the pain receptors were just off duty.

HELLZ YES!

#7 was a similar story. Again… burning, stretching, pulling… but only at the surface. Again, after about ten minutes, the surface pain completely subsided (after another round of lidocaine, that is), and I could insert #7 in halfway with no problems at all! BOTOX FOR THE WIN!

However, I did notice that, after getting in about three inches, the dilator would just… stop. I was hitting a wall again. I had no idea if that was simply where my vagina ended or what. Maybe mine happens to be extremely short? One of my previous gynos had commented that my vagina was “small”… maybe that meant I just have a short and narrow passageway in there.

Sadly, that’s not what Specialist Doctor thinks. Apparently I’ve still got further to go… And I’ve hit another big snag along the way. Part Two to debut shortly.

Vaginismus Vs. Botox, Round 1

Welp, I can’t avoid the dilators forever, now can I?

Admittedly, I was really dreading using them for the first time post-Botox. I’ve heard so many conflicting things, all from supposedly reputable sources:

I’ve watched YouTube testimonies from women who (tearfully) claim that one injection cured them of years of suffering. And the internet also provides me with statistics that border on miraculous: some would say up to 95% of women didn’t need more than one injection.

But from my doctor, I hear that most people need maybe 3-4 injections before they can successfully manage. And even then, his optimism is always cautious, always considering the next step. But I don’t even know what the next step beyond Botox IS. Is this doesn’t work… Where do I go from here? Is there even anywhere to go? Will another shot help, or am I then destined to a life of sexual dryness, topped with potential incontinence? (Which, by the way, I have not experienced yet.)

So with these contradictory ideas in my head, I’ve been avoiding dilating for two weeks. But I’m off my period, so no need to fear bedsheet stains or exacerbated vulvodynia. And the Botox begins to work after about a week, so I should already be feeling the effects. Nothing left for it but to do it.

So I did it. I spent an hour with my dilators today. Results?

I’d say they were mixed… rolling up and down… but ending very well.

I started with Dilator #5. (It’s the fifth one in the Soul Source dilator set. 3.5″ in circumference.) After applying my lidocaine, I tried to slide it in… And aside from the usual stinging at the entrance, it didn’t want to budge. So, naturally, I panicked. The Botox has done nothing! It sealed my vagina shut! I’m doomed to suffer with vaginismus forever!

But it turns out, everything feels… different after Botox. I don’t quite know how to explain it yet. The muscles are… stiffer. They don’t want to move. But despite feeling more rigid, when I apply some extra force to insert the dilator, they don’t instinctly SNAP shut like they used to. After a fair amount of stretching at the entrance, #5 slid in. And eventually, it even became almost comfortable.

#6 (3.9″ circumference) was a similar story. It didn’t want to go in at first, not even after a fair bit of pushing and adjusting angles. It took a while to get situated, and it took a fair amount of me remembering not to panic, not to start thinking up a plethora of doomsday scenarios to jolt my adrenaline and invoke that horrible clench that feels like a stab…

Yet amazingly, the clench never happened. For lack of a better way to put it, I felt like my muscles WANTED to, and tried, but never quite got there. They… twitched, I guess? But never snapped like a rubber band. I was always able to calm the muscles enough to get the dilator out without much pain.

(And in an odd side note, I felt a lot of “rearranging” of muscles and organs throughout this process, like my colon was being shifted to the back to make room for the dilator. It resulted in some… uh… extra pressure on the backdoor, and I briefly wondered whether the bedsheets would need immediate washing. But apparently not. I don’t know if that’s a common thing or what, but it went away once the dilators were out.)

However, #7 (4.5″ circumference), of course, proved to be a real challenge. It could get in an inch or so, but the STRETCHING! Augh! I felt like the skin at the entrance was stretched too thin and might tear if taken too far. Applying a second coat of lidocaine helped, but didn’t solve the problem; I even noticed a tinge of blood on the dilator. Clearly my hymen (which, if you recall, was too thick and needed a hymenectomy) wasn’t too happy about this.

So, what did solve the stretching problem? … The trusty C-ring, of course! I slipped that on the largest dilator and, after a few tries, it too slid in smoothly. And for the absolute first time EVER, #7, my largest dilator, felt comfortable.

Now, I don’t think Botox has solved all of my problems for me. I’m pretty sure I have a lubrication problem (getting aroused is not supposed to be PAINFUL pre-lube, I don’t think), I imagine I probably need to use some sort of moisturizer in conjunction with lube. (Pure Romance sells one here; haven’t tried it yet but probably will. Their lubricants work quite well for me.) The vulvodynia, of course, is always present, and thus I will still always need lidocaine prior to inserting anything. And I’m still not sure what the stretched feeling was about, and if it’s going to remain as stubborn when dilating in the future. Guess I’ll have to try again soon and find out.

Now the Botox won’t be up to its full strength for another week or two, so I’m hoping to have more hopeful updates coming out soon. But in the meantime, it seems to be helping. It’s not a miracle cure, but I’m hoping it will pack a hell of a punch.

Vaginismus, you will NOT be the boss of me…

Quick Botox Update (And Bonus Feature: “Story of a Wimp”)

Just a quick fly-by post to mention that I haven’t died from Botox Syndrome. (Yet.) It’s been a week since the procedure, and right now I’m feeling… well, exactly the same as I was prior to it. I’m not noticing any tension in my vagina, but I don’t really feel like I can relax it, either. Kegels are a little tougher to do than they were before, but I don’t notice much relaxation on the release.

I should have some form of dilating update… However, I’ve been on Shark Week for the last few days (that’s advice columnist Dan Savage’s term for being on my period, and I’m rather fond of it) and thus avoiding the little silicone bastards. Again.

But give me 3-4 days and I will have absolutely no excuse not to dilate, so… If I haven’t posted again by the start of next week, hound me! I need someone to kick me into being accountable. Plus, I have a follow-up appointment with Specialist Doctor on the 18th, so I will need to have something positive to report to him. Otherwise he might call me a wimp again.

… Did I not mention that before? Guess it’s storytime after all.

Now, Specialist Doctor has been the best doctor I’ve seen about my vaginismus and vulvodynia. He is knowledgeable and compassionate, and very determined to have me thinking positively and truly believing I can beat this. His treatments are aggressive but necessary, done methodically, and I really think I’d be much worse off if he weren’t holding me accountable.

However, being a pelvic medicine specialist, he has hundreds of patients, and as such, appointments with him are short and brusque. Often he’s running late, sometimes an hour or more, and when that happens, the stress starts to show. He’s never been mean to me, but I know that sometimes I’ve become another box to check off on the list before he can go home.

The time that stood out to me the most was on my pre-Botox appointment, when we were evaluating how well the Elavil worked. He asked me if I’d attempted intercourse yet; I said no. And he responded, “That’s a little wimpy, don’t you think?”

My response was the only actually wimpy part. I said something vague about not wanting to exacerbate the vaginismus by attempting intercourse before I was ready. And to his credit, he seemed to agree with me, or at least believe I was being reasonable. The conversation went on like usual, he outlined his Botox treatment plan, and all was well.

But what I wanted to say to him, at that precise moment when that word “wimpy” slipped out of his mouth, was something along the lines of: “Hey, you try shoving a dildo the size of a penis up your ass before you’ve stretched it out, and see how THAT feels!”

Obviously, I didn’t actually say that, because, well, I’m an adult, and hoping to move past my rebellious teenager phase. But I do think, in the most literal sense, it’s a valid point. Anal intercourse, when not adequately prepared for, can be as unpleasant of an experience as vaginismus; it requires lots of lubricant, gradual stretching, and patience from both partners to even be comfortable, let alone pleasurable. (And honestly, I cannot fathom how that could ever be even remotely comfortable. But, I also can’t fathom how vaginal intercourse could be comfortable either…)

In summary, I think being nervous to attempt to insert something a fair bit larger than anything I’ve attempted before, when inserting dilators smaller than my husband have often resulted in scraping, burning, searing pain… I don’t think being afraid of that kind of pain is “wimpy.” Not at all.

Ode to the C-Ring

You know, for someone who was constantly writing papers and essays in college, you’d think I’d be better at updating my blog regularly. In times like these, when I go weeks between updates, usually that means nothing of note has happened. That’s still true.

I did get back into dilating a little bit though. I was doing a pretty spectacular job at avoiding it, but with the upcoming Botox (it’s next Tuesday, aaahhh!), I figured I should probably figure out whether going off the Elavil had a negative effect or not.

The jury’s still out on that one. Dilating was a bit rougher than usual; while on Elavil, I could eventually get dilator #6 in to the point of being “only a little uncomfortable,” but this time, #6 was putting up a fight. It eventually relented and accepted its position, but it was not happy about it. And when I tried for #7, which previously I’d gotten in a couple times, it wouldn’t even enter at all.

Until I had a little idea… and pulled out my C-ring.

So, C-rings 101: A C-ring is, let’s be honest here, a sex toy. It’s often the texture of a rigid jelly, in the shape of a ring. It can stretch to accomodate a penis (or a dilator) inside it. Men sometimes use C-rings to constrict blood flow to the penis, which apparently is pleasurable for them…? (I really could stand to take Men’s Sexual Anatomy 101. Health classes in high school were woefully lacking in information about the opposite gender. But I digress.)

So what’s so special about C-rings for women? Well, you can buy them attached to a vibrator. This is the one I have, from Pure Romance (NSFW). I may be opening up an uncomfortable can of worms for women here by talking about vibrators, so let me just say this: vibrations massage your muscles, as evidenced by the great number of back massagers out there. And what happens to your muscles when they’re massaged? They relax. So if you insert something into your vagina that vibrates… The vibrations should help relax your muscles, right?

Well, it seems to work decently for me! Mind you, this is no magic cure for vaginismus. Just like one visit to a masseuse isn’t going to cure you of all that muscle tension you carry around from stress, using a vibrator isn’t going to make your vaginismus disappear.

But I can say this: I tried for 5-10 minutes to get dilator #7 in naturally, with no luck. I put #7 inside the C-ring, turned it in, and was able to insert it several inches in just a minute or two, and it was only a little uncomfortable. (Plus, potentially useful but TMI: the vibrations tend to benefit everywhere in the ladypart region, not just the vagina. And it’s a bit easier to relax the vagina when your labia/clitoris/etc. are feeling a bit “relaxed,” too.)

So there you go. Feeling stuck with your dilators? Maybe investing in a nice C-ring might give you a bit of a boost. Plus, it has many other enjoyable uses too. 😉

Dilating is like a dentist appointment. It involves a lot of pricking.

(Mild Trigger Warning on this post. There is some theoretical discussion of sexual assault.)

So I wish I could say I’ve accomplished something, in terms of the Vs, in the last few days. But alas, apathy and avoidance have struck again. I haven’t touched the dilators in probably a couple weeks now, which really is not a wise decision, especially with my Botox coming up at the end of this month.

There’s one strange problem I always have with the dilators though. I have this elaborate routine I go through whenever I’m preparing to do them: I have to shut all the blinds (in every room), lock the front door, deadbolt the same door, lock my bedroom door, pull the covers up over me… Whenever I dilate, I always feel exposed. Vulnerable to attack. I wrap myself in covers because it’s a typical child’s response to feeling unsafe in their room, and when I’m prepping my dilators, I feel like a powerless child again. My ears are pricked, taking notice of every voice in the courtyard. My heart skips a beat when I hear my upstairs neighbors pacing across my ceiling. I’m always anticipating the sound of shattering glass as a robber breaks through my windows, first thinking of only stealing the TV but then wondering if there might be a weak, defenseless young woman alone in the house…

I should add, at this point, that I have never been sexually assaulted. I know several people who have, but for them it was almost always someone they knew: a caretaker, date, or “friend.” I don’t want to diminish the experiences of those who have been attacked by strangers, for their stories are very real and very terrifying, but as far as I know, they are in the vast minority. It is highly, highly unlikely that anyone is going to break into my apartment (especially in my safe neighborhood) and rape me as I’m dilating.

But again… The Fear. It’s always there. And as a person with vaginismus knows, it doesn’t matter how much you have reasoned and rationalized with yourself about safety. You know consensual sex is not supposed to be painful, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you have a loving, attentive partner, one who would stop the moment you were uncomfortable… In the moment his penis touches you, your reaction is nothing but instinct. CLOSE UP. SHIELD YOURSELF. GET AWAY.

And even if I can relax temporarily, if I can get the 5th or 6th dilator in all the way and have it not hurt, I’m still always tense. I’m still always consciously focusing on my muscles, willing them to hold this particular position, because if I get distracted and lose focus, they will instinctively clamp shut again. And the pain that comes from that snapping shut, well, that’s the pain we V-girls have taught ourselves to fear.

For any readers who don’t have vaginismus, imagine yourself at the dentist’s office. As he inserts the plaque pick, he tells you to “open as wide as you can.” Technically, you are relaxing your jaw muscles when you do this, but does it feel relaxed? No. Your mouth feels strained, you have stiff cylindrical objects poking around in sensitive areas, and if you get pricked a little too hard, you want to snap your jaw shut… but if you do, just think about how it feels to have that hooked probe tear into your gums or your cheek! This is what vaginismus is like. It’s prying open a part of your body that’s supposed to stay closed, trying to stay relaxed but knowing that if you slip up just a little, that pain is going to come flooding back, full force. (It’s not a relaxing prospect.)

After a good amount of time with the dilators, I can usually work past this point now. There IS a point you can reach where suddenly it feels like the walls of your vagina rearrange, bending around the dilator and giving it plenty of room to maneuver. Once you reach this point, you don’t worry about the pain, because it feels like you can roll the dilator around, prod it against the vaginal walls, and it feels like the walls have gone elastic; you can feel them bend and even squish a little. But this is a progress point, not the endgame; in my experience, I can lose this sudden “loose” feeling at the sound of a yell outside or a THUMP on the ceiling. Being startled by anything makes me snap shut, and then the process starts all over again.

I may or may not dilate again before talking to Leia this weekend; I’m going out this evening and will be house-hunting and visiting my parents tomorrow. But you should hear from me sometime early next week, and I’m hoping to bring some positive stories along.

The Seven-Point Path (for Vaginismus/Vulvodynia Treatment)

Well, seems I’ve been neglecting this blog for far too long, so before I forget again, here’s what happened with the first visit to the specialist. I’m getting closer to catching up to the present day: this particular visit was in May 2011.

Walking into the female pelvic medicine office for the first time was a somewhat surreal experience. It was also on the highest floor of the megaplex, but this side was built like a private doctor’s office, with a flat screen TV broadcasting the weather and 4-foot-high posterboards advertising bladder control treatments and permanent birth control options. I had a choice of magazines between Good Housekeeping, some fancy sports car magazine for the husbands, and The Economist. (I chose The Economist. I’m a nerd.) Probably 90% of the patients in the room were over 50; I felt like my lack of wrinkles signaled that I wasn’t “supposed” to be here. Lots of other women were probably here for the usual post-menopausal problems with incontinence or frequent urination; I, however, had a defect. (I’m very good at feeling singled out, particularly when nervous and in an unfamiliar environment.)

But the moment I met my doctor, I felt hopeful again. He was quick, but intense. He introduced himself as “the doctor people come to when things go wrong.” Before I knew it, he had outlined an intensive treatment plan that would take me in every direction imaginable, from home therapy with dilators and Kegels to office-based physical therapy and “electrostimulation” to pain shots to muscle relaxants to Botox. I couldn’t really process the entire list at once, it was so expansive and aggressive. I started crying in the exam room again, as I’m wont to do when dealing with this condition, and I was shaking and stirring a whole cocktail of emotions together in my brain.

It was still so hard to believe that a doctor was finally taking me seriously. In this case, he was a specialist in pelvic disorders; just being able to see him legitimized my condition as something needing and deserving of treatment. But at the same time… Legitimizing the condition also forces me to accept that I DO have a problem, and it’s a difficult one, one that I can’t simply ignore and hope it will go away. This particular thought process is probably familiar to many vaginismus and vulvodynia sufferers out there; I don’t doubt that it’s a common part of the recovery process. Some days I want to hide it, and pretend that nothing is wrong with me; other days I want to fight it for hours on end until my entire body is slack from exhaustion, and neither of those routes are going to get me where I need to be.

What was needed, according to Specialist Doctor, was:

• Purchase a set of silicone rubber dilators (“Throw out your plastic ones,” he said, “don’t ever use them for dilating again, they’re horrible”), and dilate with them for fifteen minutes, twice daily;
• Apply a topical lidocaine ointment twice a day, as well as five minutes before every dilation, to dull the nerves;
• Kegel exercises, done 4-6 times daily, to strengthen the muscles
• Administer a local lidocaine injection, under anaesthesia (also for dulling nerves);
• Physical therapy once a week, which would involve electrostimulation (to relax the vaginal muscles);
• Potentially taking a prescription strength muscle relaxant, which would also have antidepressant/anti-anxiety effects;
• Local Botox injections in the vagina (to freeze the muscle spasms).

No pressure.