Sometimes things happen to me and then something like this happens in my head:
“I should blog this.”
“Oh my god, Miranda! No! This is embarrassing! Don’t!”
“No, really, this is too good. I should blog this.”
And on and on until eventually the mood has passed and it’s just no longer relevant. But then this thing happened that is too hilarious, if not awkward, not to share.
So what the hell, right? YOLO or something like that.
Fair warning, though, if you’re easily offended by vaginas or talking about vaginas, or if you’re of the opposite sex and have a fondness for vaginas, you might want to go ahead and mark this one as read.
Though if you’re in that latter category, perhaps reading this will give you a certain amount of sympathy for the “fairer” sex, so if you’re in need of a dose of that, I invite you to stay.
In case you’re new here, I gave birth six months ago. And what sometimes happens when a human attempts to Houdini its way out of the Magic Box is that the box is left, how shall I say this delicately, torn open from tip to tail.
Which is what happened to me.
Third degree tears are no joke, y’all.
But mine healed up nicely, and within about a week after having Emma, things felt as normalish down there as they ever will again.
So color me shocked when I went to the bathroom one day a few weeks back and upon wiping experienced a pain that felt like a million tiny daggers had just been jabbed into my junk.
It was, in a word, unpleasant.
It was so unpleasant, in fact, that I did what any self-respecting woman aware of her own anatomy does.
I dropped trow, grabbed a mirror, put my leg on the toilet and took a little look-see.
There, dangling from my baby maker, was something I can only describe as what looked to be truck balls.
They definitely weren’t there before Emma. And they definitely didn’t belong there. Ever.
I turned to Google. I turned to nurse friends. I turned to more Google. And then I called my doctor.
“Um, hi, I need to see the doctor. I’m having a…um…well…there’s…uh…”
For three weeks, I lived with this extra appendage. I checked periodically to see if my Scar Tissue Issue had magically disappeared so I could save myself the copay and the drive and the mortification, but no.
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No, I did not have that much good fortune squirreled away in Karma Bank and Trust. So yesterday I loaded up my littlest and made the drive to my OB’s office.
Once I was finally called back and on the table, underwear safely stowed inside my diaper bag—which, why do we do that? We’re about to have a light shined on our lady bits and we’re afraid the doctor will see our underwear??? I’m not alone, right?—anyway, while I waited for the doctor, I imagined all the things that might be going on down there. Again. Just like I’d been doing for three weeks.
Finally, the doctor came in. I told him about my extra pieces and he told me to put my feet into the stirrups.
He declared my Scar Tissue Issue to be a “granulation.” Then he told the nurse to get a tray.
She returned with a small vial of something in her hand and I thought, “Oh! Hooray! Vagicaine! NUMB ME UP!!”
And I thought that’s what he did.
Except, no. No, that’s not what happened at all.
I felt a pinch and a burning and sucked in my breath in that way reserved for the sharpest of sharp pains where you physically cannot exhale and every muscle in your body tenses and heard him say “Well, I just got the largest piece of it.”
People.
I did not see any sort of sharp implement for cutting or slicing or clipping.
I think he removed a piece of my vagina with a yank and twist. Which is not at all like a bend and snap.
It was at this point that the nurse reminded me to breathe and started asking questions about Emma, who was chilling in the car seat, chewing on my disgusting keys while my doctor was wrist deep in my business, to distract me.
The doctor went on poking and prodding and saying inane things like “usually sex takes care of these” and “I need you to be as loose as possible right now.”
To which I replied, in my head, “Doc, it hurts to wipe. What makes you think sex is on my radar?” and to which the nurse replied, out loud, “Doc, you say that like it’s easy to do” and I high-fived her with my mind.
As a friend pointed out, only a man would say that sex fixes painfully broken vaginas. Menfolk who are reading? Sex does not fix painfully broken vaginas.
As if all of that wasn’t enough, to take care of any remaining bonus tissue hiding in my nethers, he busted out a bottle of Silver Nitrate and swabbed me up. For good measure.
I’ll say that again in case you didn’t read it the first time: Silver Nitrate. In my vagina.
My girl parts were set on fire yesterday and not in a way that was even sort of good.
He went on to tell me that they’d done a really great job in creating my Frankengina in the hour after Emma’s birth and things looked great everywhere else. (And I do mean everywhere.)
I guess I should’ve known there would maybe be issues down the road when it took three times as long to put me back together as it did to get her out, but whatever. I was all high on endorphins and adrenaline oxytocin and not thinking clearly.
Now can someone please pass me a peri bottle? Or a bottle of sauv blanc?
Hahaha! Oh, I’m laughing because I commiserate so much! Not that I’ve had to had things… tucked back up by a doctor or anything… in part because sex, um, really did help? But my goodness I have had my share of awkwardly painful experiences with my feet in those stirrups! Love the nurse’s response!
The nurse was awesome. My doctor is, too, really, but the nurse was awesome.
So I know this was posted 4 or 5 years ago, but I am currently sitting on the couch with an ice pack on my vagina slightly terrified to pee after a silver nitrate treatment. This post made me feel so much less crazy!! After my appt, as soon as we got in the elevator to go home, my husband busted out laughing because my doctor was so nonchalant, and my nurse was so sympathetic to the whole thing. He said “yeah – I had to do this a few weeks ago on another patient, but she never called back so it must have worked”. Men.
Oooohhhh girl, you deserve an entire bottle of sauvignon blanc! GAH! I was just at my OBGYN yesterday for a rather embarrassing visit myself so I feel your pain. But your experience just sounds…awful. I had a really traumatic vaginal delivery with a few setbacks in my recovery but I think you win for this one. I’ll say again what I’ve said to you many times before: at least Emma is cute! 🙂
If I weren’t breastfeeding? I would have been PLASTERED Tuesday night. My delivery was a breeze compared to this.
NO HE DID NOT. That’s what the numbing spray is FORRRRRRRRR.
You know? I tried using that after Emma was born because, hello, third degree tear. And it burned so bad I had to get in the shower immediately and wash it off. But not before I hopped around the bathroom gingerly trying to figure out WTF I’d just done to myself.
Just an FYI, there are two bottles of dermoplast (numbing spray) if you get the red top can it will burn like crazy bc of the antibiotic properties. The blue is much better, may have mild discomfort but shouldn’t have much pain.
Oh my gosh. Oh. My. Gosh. Men. And sex. And vaginas. And babies. They just don’t get it!
I hope you’re feeling better. Things still don’t work quite right for me yet either.
Yes. They don’t.
And I’m sorry. I hope things work for you again soon.
OHMAHGAH you poor lady. He just yanked them? WITHOUT WARNING?! THE HELL?!
I’m really not sure WHAT he did. He could’ve yanked. He could’ve sliced. Either way, no warning, no numbing, no nonsense. Done.
My vagina was sad.
I’m sorry but that is the funniest thing I have ever read 😂 My vagina was sad!!!! I just had a poly removed and went looking because the silver turned mine into frankengina too! Yuck!!! I want to put the hose in there and rinse it out!!!
Oh you deserve lots of wine. I had a 2 hour repair and when I asked for a stitch count the midwife laughed and said, “You don’t even want to know.” and then had to call in an OB for the last part as not to stitch an important exit (the top one not the butt) only hole closed by accident, since OB’s are trained surgeons. Oh yes that was exactly what they told me (a repair that involved a 3 day catheter to insure the stitches held where they were supposed to be and not scar tissue over their handy work.)
Now that I’ve TMI’d all over your blog comments cheers to a 3 glass night…
ZOMG!
YOU deserve wine. Lots and lots and lots of it.
Holy Crap Lady — you are a freaking hero. Not only did you go through something that I can only empathize, but you then were able to make me laugh out loud reading it. I really do try not to laugh at other’s misfortunes, but you gave me no choice. Hope that’s the end of your birthing trauma/drama!
I’m glad people laughed. I laughed too. Even as it was happening. It was too insane NOT to laugh, you know?
Since I just DM’ed you my embarrassing story I’ll just say.
Can you imagine if there was something ANYTHING hanging from a man’s ANYTHING and someone RIPPED IT OFF? The world would end. END!
Yes. I hide my underwear. I also turn my son’s stroller around so it’s not facing me. They say 2 years olds have no memory recall… but WHAT IF!?!?
The world would totally end. And I will forever be grateful that my son wasn’t there. Forever.
I got a little sick reading this,not gonna lie. But only because it took me back to my preggo days and the horror that hemmoroids inflicted upon my body. Needles and scapels were involved, many times. So my heart goes out to you! Oh, and I, too hide the undies — and bra if needed, and they MUST match on that day!
True story, hemmies scare me worse than this. Way worse.
So….you’re finding a new Dr right? I mean. He obviously does not get that fire and vagina’s do not mix. Ever.
Oddly? No. I don’t think I will. Because despite this, I really, really love him.
You have a way with words. I really felt like I was there with you! I think that the physician’s technique could be improved. If that’s the way you do it, you should have had a warning at the least. That sounds BEYOND awful. I can only imagine!
Our children have no idea what we go through to have them. It’s tough, but it’s so worth it!
If you lived in my town, I’d deliver the wine personally and give you a vodka chaser!
You’re right. They don’t. So now we have to find ways to make them appreciate all we’ve gone through to get them here without scarring them for life.
Dear sweet lord I basically fainted reading this. This is making rethink my whole getting pregnant decision… except baby is firmly in there so no undo. Ack!
Also, I definitely hide my undies. I have no idea why.
WHY do we hide our undies!?! I just can’t even think of why we do this!
And you will likely be fine and have no issues. Don’t worry!
I am suddenly glad I had a c-section
I mean, having a c-section with my first didn’t stop me from having issues. I just had them from a different exit. :/
DEAD.
Quick! Someone! CPR!
No experience here, thanks to 2 c-sections, but man my vag hurts now.
My c-section with Joshua didn’t stop me from having issues. I just had them from the other exit. :/
I’m sorry, I cannot comment because all the muscles in my body have clenches SO HARD at the thought of someone ripping anything off my lady business my hands are incapable of typing. I had (er, have) a problem with one of the glads in that general AREA and the time in college where I had to have a minor in-office surgery to fix it I actually lost consciousness. TWICE.
Hey! I need you to be as loose as you can be! It’s totally easy!
::side-eye:: doctors. Total ::side-eye::.
Oh Miranda… I had granulation tissue too. FOUR silver nitrate treatments later, it was still hanging out, so then I had straight up surgery to remove the rest. After one of those treatments, I stole the tube of numbing gel and took it home.
I feel your pain.
I wrote about it too – called it ‘the hooha saga’. Some thing are just too ridiculous not to post.
OH MAH GAH!!!!!!!!!!!
FOUR???
Four times?
No. NO NO NO!
I simultaneously laughed and cried for you.
I simultaneously laughed and cried for me, too.
I feel so bad for you, but at the same time, I laughed through most of this post. Especially the part where the doctor said sex will fix it. My hubby is under the impression that sex fixes everything too, lol. (Got a hangnail? Have sex! Have a touch of the flu? A round of sex will clear that right up!)
Never had the problem you had, but after giving birth to my first, I had a massive hematoma DOWN THERE along with a ton of stitches. It was so bad that when the nurses came to check on me, they would rear back in horror and take back everything they’d just said about how I needed to get out of bed and walk around. It took me over a month to recover. Let’s just say it sucked. Majorly.
Yeah — all I got is yeee’owch.
So yeee’owch.
I totally squinched my vagina shut the whole time I was reading this.
Brutal!
And THAT is why my OB/GYNs have been and always will be female.
Girl. Truck balls? Did he even say how that happened? And the yanking and the pulling? Gah! I cringed a bit inside. Have sex to fix that? Right… Yes, honey, please come lay on top of me while I have skin dangling from my vagina and a burning sensation. I bet this will be so intimate and passionate… uh, no. I’m glad he fixed your lady bits. 🙂
Oh my god I am cringing and laughing and admiring you for sharing your story. Seriously, I love you. I hope everything feels better soon! (And wth doctor? I can’t believe he told you to have sex for that. Men are so clueless.)
Please don’t every stop blogging about these things!!!! *giggle* You inspired me to write a lady bits post today actually, but not half as funny as yours 😀 Hope your lady bits feel better soon (can’t believe I just wrote that!!) x