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This is Absolutely NOT About my Fanny.

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Pelvic floor muscles are one of those things you only really talk about once you fall pregnant. No sooner do you realise you have them they are ruined.

It’s like discovering you have a beautiful chocolate cake in your cupboard you didn’t know about and then immediately dropping it on the floor. Into shit.*

People told me to make the most of life before I had children.

Go out to dinner! They said.

Enjoy time alone with your partner! I was told.

If I could turn back time I would have sacked off the romantic dinners and spent my free hours enjoying piss free star jumps instead. Every time I hear Cher singing If I Could Turn Back Time I imagine it’s a paean to her weakened post baby undercarriage.

If I could turn back time,

If I could find a way,

I’d take back those words that hurt you,

And you’d stay.

Once you discover your pelvic floor you are supposed to exercise it/ them/her.

Now I am a big fan of exercise, I like running and I love kickboxing but I’m not sure lying in bed twitching your bum can be properly described as exercise.

I was pregnant with my son in the summer of 2012 and got swept away with Olympic fever, I was squeezing all day every day.

In my mind my pelvic floor was the equivalent to Jessica Ennis’ stomach, or all of Denise Lewis – it looked amazing!  In reality (admittedly a place I don’t like to visit often) I was pregnant with my second child in two years as I hurtled towards 40.

In short my pelvic floor was fucked and nothing was going to save it.

All that squeezing just made me look like I was constantly being jabbed by an invisible fork.

I didn’t really mean to hurt you,

I didn’t want to see you go,

Oooh Baby!

Once I’d had my babies I spoke to the doctor about getting my pelvic floor muscles back. Was there anything I could do to tempt them home? Maybe I could throw them a small tea party? Or write a letter apologising for my actions? Perhaps we could arrange couples counselling?

The doctor sighed, opened a drawer and brought out a rubber band. What followed was the most excruciating few minutes of my life. And I say this as a woman who has given birth twice without pain relief.

She twanged the rubber band explaining that this represented the muscles of a teenage woman. Then she scrabbled around in her desk and found a bit of old string, dangling it in front of me, this she explained, represented the muscle tone of a woman nearing 40 who had just had two babies.

She told me to keep doing the exercises and avoid star jumps.

I sat there waiting for the TV cameras to reveal themselves thinking this must be some horrendous new GP based hidden camera show. But it wasn’t.

The moral of my story is this:

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

For tomorrow you may regret doing star jumps.

 

*I don’t know why there is shit on the floor. Sometimes there just is. However the cake that magically appears in your cupboard is pure fantasy.

10 thoughts on “This is Absolutely NOT About my Fanny.

  1. Star jumps are a luxury. I’m now advanced level leakage after 4 small people have wrecked my undercarriage; laugh, cry, cough, sneeze all have me reaching for the Tena Lady.

    Le sigh.

  2. In most countries on the continent, women are offered physiotherapy after natural birth — by default. Not in the UK (I wonder why?) — you have to beg for it and they tell you that you should wait for 12 months (at least) before you consider it (?!?)…
    Men can also develop pelvic floor problems — especially in relation with prostate troubles…
    But there is more than just squeezing — all sorts of gym exercises (various types of bridges and the pelvic thrust with a kettle bell etc.) will help a lot, being more efficient than just squeezing because the help strengthen the whole lower back as well. And there are the little devices like Aquaflex which are really effective if used regularly and give one the advantage of “testing” as you change weight of the item… :)))
    There is life after birth for pelvic floors!

  3. Oh the things we sometimes wish we ware told before getting pregnant/giving birth/having children in our homes.

    and if it makes you feel any better, I am only in my 20ies, only had one baby, and I can’t do star jumps despite doing all the pelvic floor exercise I have been told to do.

  4. And the minute someone mentions pelvic floor exercises you can’t help but start twitching away. I still call it zip and hollow – which was what the antenatal Pilates instructor called it (zip it up), fat lot of good that it did….

  5. Hilarious, but sadly too true! One baby at 34, all seemingly alright immediately afterwards, but a hideous chest infection this week (at 39) has put me right on that one. I’m squeezing as we speak…

  6. I hear ya, I hear ya. One ventouse delivery and mine were totally f*%ked. Saw a ‘down-there’ physio for a while, it sort of helped, but not much. However… good news… hired a personal trainer in November, female, got two children of her own and eleven weeks on I reckon I’m almost at the point where I could just about, if I’d been to the toilet just before, do a piss-free star-jump. The difference is amazing and it turns out it’s all down to the type of exercise you do, who knew – not me for almost four whole years. Ok, showing off now… I’ve just sneezed and the seat’s still dry…

  7. Lol, great post. I went on a trampoline the other day. Cue wallking off backwards and tying my jumper round my waist for the rest of the afternoon. Lesson learned.

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