Cosmopolitan UK - 09.2019

38 ·^ COSMOPOLITAN

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”.

t all started with a white-and-
lime-coloured box. I stood
outside my local family-
planning 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”