“No one wants to talk about their perineum”
A couple months after giving birth to my second son, I took a cabin-fever-induced run on the treadmill at the gym, and peed my pants. On my soaked-ass walk of shame back to the locker room, I decided it was time to see a perineum reeducation therapist. There are many sacrifices that I am willing to make while caring for two young children. But not being able to run without pissing myself was a reality to which I would not consent. My midwife referred me to a doctor who billed herself as a physiotherapist but specialized in that special axis of the vagina and asshole. The visits were covered by my insurance — I had no excuse not to go.