You know when you blow up a balloon, don’t tie it, and release it so it bounces erratically through the air with that very distinct and loud sound? Now imagine that coming out of your va-jay-jay. At a super high volume. And…repeat.
This happened to me. Not ideal timing – in the middle of a nighttime yoga session at a local park along with about 60 unsuspecting, random strangers. Ever since the birth of my now two-year-old, air will get all up in there and, well, you get the idea. I held the child’s pose and wished with all my might that nobody knew it was me.
Lady part farts aren’t my only issue. I pee myself while exercising – after a run, it looks like I threw a bucket of water down south. There are also problems when sneezing, laughing, coughing, and jumping up and down. Pressure when I sit and sometimes just walking. You name it.
I imagined mentioning this to my OB/GYN, and anticipated the usual response, “That’s normal.” Something to expect after shooting a nearly eight-pound human being out of your nether regions. But what she said surprised me. “You could proceed with surgery,” she explained, “or attempt pelvic floor physical therapy (PT).”
Pelvic floor, huh? What was this elusive PT? I had never heard of it, friends never dared to discuss it, and I hadn’t read about it in blogs or books. But, tired of struggling with the pain and discomfort of overstretched privates, I took matters into my own hands.
I discovered a great physical therapist who specializes in this specific problem, for women who are suffering from bouncing back after childbirth. She asked: “Do you have a frequent urge to urinate? Do you wet yourself? Do you feel pressure down there? Do your symptoms keep you from things you would normally do?”
“Yes, yes, yes, and yes!” Feeling validated was an understatement. I wanted to hoist her onto my shoulders and parade her around in appreciation. She knew my issues and, better yet, had the tools to potentially fix them.
She taught me everything I needed to know about the female pelvic floor – how the pelvic muscles create a “sling” to support organs, help control urination, and function during intercourse. Childbirth has the potential to loosen and mess up those muscles, completely impacting basic functioning.
It all made sense. I wondered why nobody talked about this. Why, in some countries, do physicians automatically prescribe this therapy following childbirth, but it seems to be a gap in our medical system? Why was this the best-kept secret following having a baby?
Now, I am armed with exercises, the potential for muscle stimulation therapy, and the knowledge that there is a possible non-surgical solution. That I won’t always have to wear patterned exercise bottoms to hide the pee. And if I ever get the urge to do yoga again, well, I won’t be afraid to try more than one pose.
