Family Time | Here’s to our wrecked pelvic floors
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Here’s to our wrecked pelvic floors

Here’s to our wrecked pelvic floors

Let’s raise a glass in salute to mothers: Here’s to their love. Here’s to their dedication. Here’s to their wrecked pelvic floors. Yeah, I said it.

Your mom probably never told you this, but she’s sacrificed a lot for you over the years. And I’m not only talking about the perfectly browned corner of her toast she was saving for the last bite that you grabbed, licked and threw on the floor — every single morning. BUT WHO’S KEEPING TRACK, DANNY? (I’m eating pre-licked toast as I type this. Mom leftovers is a real thing.)

Did you ever think that maybe she used to go out to karaoke with her friends, but instead she had to stay home while you screamed in her face? I mean, okay, you had an ear infection, but she didn’t know that at the time. She thought maybe you just hated her guts and wanted to see how crazy you could make her with lack of sleep and adult conversation.

She powered through. She kept her cool, held you tight while she soberly, exhaustedly, sang “I Will Always Love You” alongside your wails instead of to the karaoke backing track with a glass in her hand.

I bet your mom never talks about the toll that pregnancy took on her body. If she does, trust me, there’s a lot more she’s not telling you. So I will. It’s something we need to stop hiding.

Babies are the sweet, sweet orange juice. And mommies are the squeezed out rind that made orange juice possible.

Moms need to change their pants after they sneeze, yell, laugh, cough, run, jump or brush their teeth. They fold into mommy molds around babies, hips jutted forward, shoulders rounded, curved to cradle and nurse. They skew to balance toddlers on hips. They have stretch marks, C-section scars, spayed-cat belly pooch, tears that healed weird, wider hips and feet, lopsided breasts, and back pain.

They’re told, “Look. Giving birth is like remodeling. That’s just how it is.”

Did you know your mom would sneak into your room to make sure you weren’t dead and they’d just watch you breathe, marveling at the magic that is you? Did you know she still has a lock of your baby hair? That she cried when she dressed you for the first time? After playing with baby dolls as a child, now, finally, her own sweet treasure to cherish was YOU.

If you’re wondering where this rant came from: I’ve been going to see Shannon Regner of Innova Physical Therapy and I’m having a lot of feelings about how I’ve been told to suck it up about my bad remodel job.

I have a five-year-old C-section scar that’s stuck to the rest of my insides and nobody ever checked it after the six week mark to see how things were doing. My mom stance has me in constant pain, but Shannon showed me how to stand up straight and already I feel so much better.

I’m learning so many more things about my postpartum body that there’s actually a fix for, and it’s not surgery. I’m disgruntled about short maternity leave, forced acceptance of pain and difficulty, and the lack of follow-up care and support.

With real recovery care, being surrounded by our fabulous fruity families, by our sweet orange juice babies, the sugar of love, the fizzy club soda of friends (and maybe a little wine) — we can transform forever for the better.
We are not merely oranges. We are SANGRIA.
Here’s to you, moms. Practice self care. Do what it takes to recoup, talk to your girlfriends, and know you’re not alone. Enjoy your special day, and maybe have a few sips. You’re fabulous. Cheers!

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