After having my children, I found myself longing for the same quiet moments I had pre-baby, along with the hope that my jeans would fit like they used to. But above all, I yearned for the ability to sneeze or jump without the fear of an embarrassing little leak. Thankfully, I had the fortune of raising my children in France, where the stereotype of perfect French women extends to their surprisingly strong pelvic muscles.
Now, I may not have been born with a French vagina, but I certainly embraced the French way of life during my time there. Both of my daughters entered the world in France, which meant enduring the unique experience of midwives and doctors enthusiastically shouting “Pousse! Pousse!” during childbirth. The prenatal and postnatal care I received was on par with that of French women, and it was time for the dreaded six-week checkup.
Just like every other French woman, I was handed a prescription for 10 sessions with a midwife, or sage-femme, to begin my rééducation du périnée. I had no clue what that entailed, but I was ready to dive in. With a baguette in one hand and a sleeping baby in the other, I approached my first appointment, blissfully unaware of what was ahead.
The midwife greeted me warmly and handed me a peculiar device she referred to as a sonde, which I jokingly dubbed my “joystick.” I quickly learned that this “wand” would become a staple in our sessions. She launched into a series of personal questions that left me blushing: “Do you leak when you sneeze? How’s your experience during intimacy?” It felt invasive yet oddly necessary.
After our chat, I hopped onto the examination table, and to my surprise, the internal check that followed was far from brief. The midwife took her time, guiding me through contractions and relaxation while keeping up a friendly conversation. Although I initially felt apprehensive, over time, I became comfortable, and our sessions turned into a sort of intimate friendship.
The real fun began when the wand transformed into a high-tech gaming device. The midwife connected it to a computer screen that displayed a yellow dot representing my pelvic floor muscles. As I contracted and released, my goal was to keep that dot within the lines on the screen, while also receiving gentle electric shocks designed to strengthen my pelvic floor. It was a bizarre yet effective form of therapy that turned my rehabilitation into a game.
Fast forward two years, and I was back for my final session, ready to give it my all. I humorously declared to the midwife that I must have the strongest vagina in the world, but my jest was lost in translation. As she increased the intensity of the electric shocks, I felt nothing at all—at least until an unexpected moment caused quite the reaction. With one slight shift, I emitted a sound that could probably be heard from the Eiffel Tower! After a comical mishap, I left the appointment feeling different—almost like I had completed a mini-Olympics for my pelvic health.
Being a mom means sacrificing so much, including our bodies. It’s a unique experience that men certainly can’t relate to. Can you imagine them voluntarily subjecting themselves to such treatments? It’s a testament to the lengths women will go to reclaim their pre-baby bodies.
Now, years later, every sneeze reminds me of the journey I undertook and the silent apologies I send my own mother as I reach for a tissue. If you’re interested in learning more about the unique experiences of motherhood, you can read up on some insightful stories here.
For those looking for resources on home insemination kits, check out Make A Mom for their reputable selection. Additionally, CCRM IVF provides excellent insights into pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
My experience with postpartum pelvic recovery in France was a unique journey filled with unexpected humor and camaraderie. From the initial awkwardness with my midwife to the surprising transformation of rehabilitation into a video game, I learned that motherhood comes with its challenges—and some rather entertaining moments.
Leave a Reply