Mom shares pain relief husband got for vasectomy, starts eye-opening debate
A woman from Ontario, Canada, has sparked a viral debate after comparing the pain management her husband received for his vasectomy with her own experience getting an IUD.
Fantasy author Robyn Jones (@robynjoneswrites) wrote in a post on Threads: “My husband will be offered a sedative and a ‘comfort kit’ prior to his vasectomy. I was told I could rawdog my IUD with no dilation nor pain relief since I’d just had a baby and proceeded to nearly pass out from the pain. Lol. #womenshealth.”
Learning that her husband would receive a sedative, local anesthetic and a “comfort kit” for his vasectomy triggered both anger and grief—not at him, but at the contrast.
“It brought back the memories of what I’d endured,” Jones told Newsweek. “You don’t need to be a scientist to know that the cervix and uterus feel pain. You just need to ask a woman and then believe what she tells you.”
Jones, a 34-year-old mom of two with husband Kyle, 37, has had two IUDs inserted, and while the first was painful, it was relatively straightforward.
She was given misoprostol to dilate the cervix, the insertion was quick, and though she cramped afterward, she had braced for worse after hearing others’ stories.
Her second experience was dramatically different. Determined to avoid unnecessary suffering, Jones specifically sought out a doctor who offered pain control.
During her intake call, she explained she was breastfeeding, and was told pain management could interfere with that—but reassured that, having given birth eight weeks earlier, the insertion would be “really easy,” virtually painless, and require no dilation.
Trusting that guidance, she took over-the-counter painkillers, drove herself to the appointment and didn’t ask her husband to come along.
What followed was, she said, one of the most painful experiences of her life. A resident doctor repeatedly tried and failed to get through her undilated cervix, causing searing pain with each attempt.
“Finally, the overseeing doctor took over and gave a hard shove where I felt a ‘pop’ in my body,” Jones recalled. “It was some of the worst pain I’d ever felt. I was sweating, holding back tears, and shaking in the stirrups. They each left the room so I could get dressed alone. I then drove myself home. I cramped and bled for days after.”
Jones’ post has gone viral on Threads, clocking up over 14,000 likes and shares. In the comments, women shared their own harrowing experiences with America’s healthcare system.
“Let me introduce IUD’s equally painful cousin, uterine biopsy. I staggered out and cried in the stairwell after,” one user wrote.
Another commented, “I actually did pass out the first time. I woke up to a cup of orange soda and two Tylenol from my md.”
Others described HSG fertility tests as “I NEED MORPHINE-level pain,” shared lifelong trauma from IUD insertions, and compared their experiences with the sedatives, Valium and prescription painkillers routinely given to male partners.
Jones, who has her new novel Beneath the Burning Throne out this May, wasn’t surprised by the volume of responses and thought it painted a “bleak picture” of women’s healthcare currently.
She hopes the conversation pushes medical professionals to rethink training, assumptions and protocols. “Women are so used to making themselves smaller, not to bother, not to complain too much,” Jones said. “We’re so used to suffering silently when we feel pain because we’re told it’s normal. It’s not normal.”