THE TENA LADY

Amy Hall - 17 Feb 15

There are things about childbirth that people don’t warn you about.

I did all the reading, downloaded the apps, quizzed my mum friends and attended weekly pregnancy yoga classes. I had diligently massaged my perineum, invested in NCT classes and remembered to exercise my pelvic floor. My best friend is a midwife, so I had heard more than a few stories about some of the more severe cases of damage to ladies’ undercarriages.

My birth was exhilarating, went exactly how I had hoped and while it was obviously exhausting and incredibly hard work, I (mostly) enjoyed the process and felt completely in control throughout.  However, my little girl showed scant regard for my careful perineal preparation, emerging in compound presentation with her arm up in triumphant superwoman pose. As a result I needed a few stitches.

I didn’t notice the tear at all during the birth and wasn’t too worried when the midwife told me about it, as she didn’t seem to think it was a bad one. But I definitely bloody noticed it afterwards while I was being stitched up without anesthetic. My midwife insisted gas and air would be sufficient. It wasn’t.

Anyway, I came home from the birth centre knackered but happy just hours after my daughter was born, ready to embrace motherhood. And embrace it I have, but with a couple of unexpected ‘issues’ that none of my aforementioned studiousness prepared me for:

Firstly, my bladder control is a disaster. I know pregnancy and childbirth wrecks your pelvic floor so this was no surprise. What I wasn’t prepared for was my body a) failing to tell me I even needed a wee in the first place and then b) having pretty much nil power to hold said wee in once I was in an upright position. Cue the minor leaking that made me realise the toilet was needed and already having leaked a lot more by the time I reached it.

All of this while I was still in need of the dreaded maternity pads wasn’t quite so bad, as it all just got soaked up (although of course made me sob and feel as though my body was failing me massively). However, four months down the line when I’m beginning to feel normal again (apart from swollen milky boobs), it’s really not so great. I might go several days without incident, sometimes successfully holding on to a relatively full bladder until I get to safety (result!). Then, bam! I’ll be walking home from Sainsbury’s and feel an unmistakable leaking sensation somewhere I’d rather not. I then have to waddle home as fast as I can, hoping it doesn’t all just pour out of me before I get there.

In the meantime, I’ll have to keep on with those pelvic floor exercises and hope that I do, at some point, regain complete control. Despite the title of this post, I refuse to resort to the Tena just yet.

Another interesting toilet-related revelation: breastfeeding makes my bowels move. It doesn’t happen so much now, but definitely did, frequently, in the first weeks after my daughter was born. I am not ashamed (but perhaps I should be) to say that around a week in, with my baby girl firmly latched on (in the middle of the night), I needed to go so urgently that I just had to take her with me. Needless to say I was extremely careful about which hands did what.

The miracle of childbirth has, without doubt, changed my life for the better. It has also taught me there are some things you simply cannot prepare for. That a ‘good’ birth doesn’t necessarily result in a problem free post-partum fanny. And that your dignity will continue to go right out of the window for weeks or maybe even months afterwards.

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Amy Hall

Amy Hall is a knitwear designer and has her own brand. She loves in Hackney with her husband and her daughter Beatrix, who is 2 years old.

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