By: Emma Sinclair
Published: September 26, 2015
After welcoming my little ones into the world, I found myself yearning for the same quiet moments I once took for granted, not to mention the ability to fit back into my favorite jeans. But above all, I wished for the freedom to jump around or sneeze without worrying about a little mishap in my undergarments.
I considered myself fortunate, however, because my children came into this world in France. You know the stereotype about French women—how they seem to effortlessly maintain their figures, have children who eat a variety of foods, and raise remarkably well-behaved kids? Well, here’s another feather in their cap: they also enjoy the benefits of strong pelvic muscles.
I may not have been born with a French pelvis, but having lived in France for a while, I can confidently say my anatomy has been treated with a touch of French flair! My daughters were born here, which meant I received the same exceptional prenatal and postnatal care as the local moms.
In France, after childbirth, women are encouraged to attend a six-week checkup, and like all French mothers, I was handed a prescription for ten sessions with a midwife, known as a sage-femme, for my pelvic floor rehabilitation. I’ll admit, I had no idea what that entailed.
With a baguette in one hand and a prescription in the other, I arrived at my first appointment, blissfully unaware of what awaited me. After some friendly chit-chat, the midwife handed me a device she called a sonde, which I affectionately dubbed my “joystick.”
Seated in the consultation room, I was bombarded with some rather embarrassing questions: “Do you leak when you sneeze? Can you shower without incident? How’s your intimate life?” I couldn’t help but wonder if she was genuinely interested or just curious.
After our Q&A, it was time for an examination. What I initially thought would be a quick check-up turned into a lengthy session, with her guiding me through various contractions while making polite conversation. The first time I was on that examining table, I felt like I was in a surreal experience, but as visits continued, it became strangely routine—and even enjoyable. Eventually, I looked forward to our sessions, developing a camaraderie with my midwife that felt more like sisterhood than a medical appointment.
But that was just the beginning of my journey into the realm of French pelvic health. Remember that “joystick”? After several sessions of contracting and relaxing, it transitioned into a high-tech gadget connected to a computer. Yes, I was about to play video games with my pelvic floor!
On the screen, I was represented as a yellow dot, navigating through a maze while contracting and releasing the wand inside me. The wand delivered mild electric shocks aimed at strengthening my pelvic muscles. I must admit, I got the hang of it fairly quickly!
Fast forward two years, and I found myself back on the examination table for my final session, with my second baby watching from her car seat. As I prepared for my last round of pelvic floor games, I felt like an athlete gearing up for the Vagina Olympics.
The midwife, adjusting the intensity of the electric shocks, looked at me curiously when I mentioned I couldn’t feel the lower settings. As she cranked up the voltage, I joked about my “world’s strongest vagina,” but my humor didn’t quite translate, leaving her a bit perplexed. Just as I was playfully making a face at my daughter, I unexpectedly emitted a sound that echoed throughout the clinic. My body jolted, and the midwife rushed to hit the “off” button, ensuring my shock didn’t scare off other clients.
It took several days before I felt normal again, but I couldn’t help but chuckle at the lengths we women go to reclaim a part of our bodies after childbirth. Dads, bless their hearts, don’t face the same physical trials. Can you imagine a man voluntarily shocking his own anatomy?
As a mother, I’ve learned that our bodies endure a lot, and I can’t help but think of my own mom every time I sneeze, sending her a silent “I’m sorry.”
For those interested in pregnancy and home insemination, you might find useful insights in resources like WHO’s pregnancy section. And if you’re exploring options for self-insemination, be sure to check out Make a Mom’s At-Home Insemination Kit for comprehensive information. Also, for more tips on home insemination, visit Intracervical Insemination.
In summary, navigating motherhood in France has led me on an unexpected yet enlightening journey toward pelvic health, complete with a dash of humor and a few surprises along the way.