Vag exercises are my ?me time?
While on mat leave, I took my me time seriously. Like, really seriously. Oh, how I looked forward to my rare afternoons off. I?d book my mother-in-law to watch my baby for an hour, put on nice clothes (?nice? was, in hindsight, relative: I put on clothes), head downtown and treat myself to a coffee before skipping down the street alone and free, without even a diaper bag weighing me down! And soon, I?d be lying in a sunny room, making small talk and taking deep breaths while a stranger tested my sphincter control and asked me to rate my pain on a scale of one to 10. Sure, I might have preferred a pedicure, but getting pelvic-floor physiotherapy was the best thing I did for myself after giving birth to my son.
A third-degree vaginal tear had left me with searing perineal pain, a leaky bladder, the inability to poop without conjuring demons, and the fear that the bear trap I used to call my vagina would leave my son an only child. I desperately wanted to show off my new baby, but weeks after giving birth, I was still holding ice packs to my crotch while writhing on the couch, crying about how I was failing my son. After all manner of infection had been ruled out and with no specific reason for my pain other than ?healing,? I was sure there had never been a weaker, whinier, worse new mom. At my six-week postpartum appointment, my OB/GYN doubled my painkiller and laxative doses, and apologetically informed me I was not yet ready to resume sexual activity (um, I was not yet rea...
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