There were a lot of things I knew to expect after I had my second baby: the sleepless nights, the hormonal mood swings, the time it would take to lose the baby weight, the huge adjustment to my life. But while my baby was sleeping through the night by eight weeks and my life had found a new rhythm that included a 21-month-old toddler and a newborn, my body wasn’t doing its part in getting back to normal.
What I hadn’t expected was that the minor urinary incontinence I’d experienced with my first pregnancy that faded after the baby was born would linger (and linger and linger) after my second baby. I did not expect that six months after having my second son I would still have to cross my legs every time I sneezed. I definitely didn’t expect to still be crossing my legs six years later. What seemed like one of those clichéd jokes about motherhood became a very real, very annoying part of my life. I was embarrassed and frustrated, but I was also angry that my body was betraying me.
Was it the fact that I’d had my babies so close together? Or that my second baby weighed in at nearly 11 pounds at birth? Was it my age—44 when I had my second baby—more than the effects of pregnancy itself? My doctor couldn’t give me a clear answer except to say, “It’s probably a combination of factors,” and to prescribe patience and Kegel exercises. Well, great. That combination of factors had me carrying a change of underwear in my purse at all times. And had me scoping out the nearest bathroom whenever I left the house. Whatever the factors, the number of accidents I had after my baby was born hadn’t seemed to decrease from when I was nine months pregnant and had a good excuse for my weak bladder.
So where patience and Kegels fell short, I used humor to cope with this fun new side effect of being a second-time mom. I wryly told my husband, “I bounced back after one baby, but the second one wrecked me.” The truth is, I can’t imagine life without my little (big) baby—but man, having to change my underwear almost as often as I changed my baby was not something I’d expected to cope with once he was out in the world and off my bladder.
It’s gotten better, thankfully. Of course, the situation is not perfect—I still carry a spare pair of underwear in my purse—but it’s improved enough that an afternoon at a park with nary a bathroom in sight doesn’t strike fear in my heart unless it’s allergy season. It’s still frustrating and potentially embarrassing if I push myself to “hold it” for too long, but my anger has faded. I’ve come to accept that my body will probably never return to its former leak-proof self—and that’s OK, because I have so much more in my life. Much like many other side effects of pregnancy, this is one where the good outweighs the bad. It just took me a while to accept it.