Mumbod: When shit gets real

Welcome to your new mum-bod, make sure you book your poopin’ workshop! That’s what they ought to say. Think about it, when you’re pregnant, you have the breathing classes. The birthing classes. The breastfeeding classes. You learn how to bring your blessing into the world, and to keep it alive after. Someone at the hospital may have even taught you how to bathe your baby and put a nappy on its tiny butt while it still had bowed chicken legs.

But what about you, Mum?

Six months or even a year after you have a baby there needs to be a follow-up care service. Instead of waiting to see if you noticed something was broken, someone should call you like “Congratulations on surviving your child’s first year. Now that you have a little more time to think about your own health, let’s book your follow-up appointment and see where you are at – because you matter too!”

Seriously, I’ve heard plenty of people talk about getting back to their pre-baby weight, but how many of your mates are bold enough to say “Yeah, can’t wait until I stop wetting myself!” or even “Hey, is sex much different for you now?” Me personally, I want to be able to tell if I need to pee. And when I do pee I want to be able to get it all out in one sitting, without doing a downward-dog in between (Double voiding.) Fuck squeezing my soft, comforting, nurturing body into uncomfortable clothes that other people can admire. No, I just want my gear to work how it used to.

But we’re not here to talk about pee, my friends, today we’re talking about poop. Or more specifically, rectocele (posterior vaginal prolapse.) Things aren’t as scary when they are understood. Some mum out there reading this might feel less alone. Empowered even, finally realising that she matters too and should get in on her nearest poop workshop.

Okay, it’s not actually called that. It’s called a Biofeedback Programme and I’m booked in for one because yesterday I paid a woman $200 to put her finger up my bum and that’s what she told me to do.

I didn’t think I’d ever hear myself say I had a positive experience at the butt doctor (or Colorectal Surgeon, as I’m sure she prefers to be called,) but I did. Her bedside manner was excellent, and she really put my mind at ease.

Anyway the long and the short of it is: I have a very minor rectocele which causes a little pocket at the end of my bowel. Basically, my pelvic floor has dropped, the muscles around my vagina have lost elasticity, and so the shape of the poop pathway has changed, sagging into my vag just a wee little bit, (unlike my bladder which packed it’s bags and moved on in.) Joy, right?

There are two things we’re going to do to address this. Firstly, I will have a defecating proctogram done. During this test they’ll fill my butt full of potato starch so I can have a pretend poop, and they’ll check out if any starch is getting trapped in my pocket. If my pocket is clear, I won’t require any additional surgery. The second thing is the poop workshop, where I will go to learn about my new but not particularly improved body, and pick up all the tips and tricks for having a comfortable effective poop so on the days where I step off the whole-food pathway and into the land of low fibre mock meat and soft dangerous white bread I will still be able to take a shit the next day, hurray!

Still don’t really know why I can’t poop, but I’m on a mission to figure it out.

If you have any questions or want to share your butt doctor stories, you can do so without judgement in the comments, or feel free to message me directly.

You matter, take care of yourself xx