From an Innie to an Outie
After two kids, I had expected certain things to change. I knew I wouldn't have as much time for friends. I knew that I would worry more about the foods I bought and the type of cleaners I used in the house. I, also, believed that it was normal to fear certain bodily functions from occurring, such as sneezing. I accepted that I would be going to the bathroom more. I had accepted that laughing or coughing may mean a new pair of pants. It was normal, right?
One year after having my second child, I waited back stage for my first bikini competition. My hair was done, my body tanned, and my bikini was sparkling. Out of no where, someone asked me "What's wrong with your belly button?" Shocked that someone had the audacity to bring attention to one of my post-pregnancy flaws, I was caught without an answer. "I don't know. Isn't this what a belly button looks like when your 12% body fat?" Pregnancy is one of those experiences that changes every body, and all in different ways. Wasn't my awkward outie just another result of the many wonderous changes the human body goes through? "Well, it looks just like my friend's hernia. You may want to get that checked." I couldn't help but disregard this stranger's concern for my well being, taking her comment as a way to shake my confidence. I had been checked for diastasis recti, hadn't I? Wasn't it confirmed I still had a strong core after pregnancy? I was sure this was nothing. I shook off the comment, thanked her for the concern, and listened to my music the rest of my wait.
Fast forward six months, and my once-upon-a-time cute little belly button now resembles a timbit. I have avoided ab exercises for three months in hopes that the hole in my abdomen will close up. No such luck. Despite my strong core, this little bump persists to stick out like a sore thumb. Why hadn't there been more information? Why didn't someone coach me through the post-partum healing process, slowly? Why did I rush to perform crunches, possibly causing more damage? Among all the information new mothers are bombarded with in regards to their baby and mom's mental well-being, there should be something that says "Hey, it's going to take at least 9 months to get your body back. Take it slow and seek professional help." But, instead, we take in the messages from magazine covers that tell us we should be bikini ready 6 weeks after childbirth; because, that sounds like a much better plan.
Diastasis Recti is a separation of the abdominal wall, and effects over two-thirds of mothers. You can check to see if you present a separation by lying on a flat surface with your knees bent and feet flat on the floor. Place your finger tips along the mid-line of your abdomen, and put your chin to your chest. A separation of 2 fingertips-width or more should be enough reason to see your doctor. I knew how to test for this. When I perform this test I can feel a large gap. I should have known better. I should have asked. I should have cared. Now? Now, I am faced with an umbilical hernia which may require going under the knife to correct.
As a new mom, you are concerned for the well-being of your children first, and foremost. Moose did not have an easy first 6-months of life. He had some grastrointestinal issues for the first few weeks, and suffered an umbilical hernia from all his efforts to push. We were in the hospital at 6-weeks with a fever, up until the early hours of the morning. He grew like a puppy, and because of his hunger and abdominal pain, cried the majority of the time for the first three months. As a mother, I loved my new son and spent the majority of my time worrying about his well-being, and giving my daughter the much needed attention she was now having to share. I didn't have time to worry about myself. I rushed in to get back into shape, using my few hours at the gym as my place to gain some sanity, and disregarded the signs I KNEW were telling me something was wrong. I became complacent; accepting the fact that sneezing was to be feared.
Today, I finally said I was going to have it looked at. Even though I had a pretty good idea that it was, in fact, a hernia I really did not want to hear those words. It was confirmed in a matter of seconds. No amount of exercise, waist belts, or crunches will heal the derformity: surgery is the answer. 6 weeks to heal -not a long time, but long enough to have significant muscle loss for a weight lifter. I joked about how I need it fixed or I'll be docked marks on stage, but I was only dreading what directions I would be told next. "No heavy lifting until all the tests are done and we know what we are dealing with," said the doctor as he typed away at his computer. No heavy lifting. No heavy lifting. What does that leave me with, cardio? I'm sorry, but what about the amount of growth I've made in the last 6 months? What about all the goals I have set for 2016? Now is not the time to take a break!
It takes time to heal a body. It takes time to build it back up from an injury, to allow it to repair. I should know: two reconstructive surgeries and I'm practically bionic in both legs. I have never let an injury stop me before, though. With a torn ACL I still weight lifted, ran and climbed right up until the day I went under the knife. I ran two half marathons on my mess of an ankle before getting on the surgery table. It has never stopped me before because those injuries didn't seem like a big deal. My core, however, is a big deal. It is a very big deal. And if I ever want to give competing the "go" it deserves, I need to do this right.
I wish someone had told me. I wish there had been more information for me, as a new mom, that told me the crunches can wait. That running 5km at 4 weeks post-partum probably isn't the "go easy" method that had been suggested to me by doctors. I wish other moms had told me to take my time, enjoy my newborn, and forget about rushing to the gym after only a few hours of sleep. My babies are growing fast. I can't help but wonder: what did I miss out on while I rushed to "get my body back?" Now, because I rushed, I'm facing 6 weeks of not having the ability to pick up my babies. 6 weeks that I could have saved myself from had I taken the appropriate steps to build up my core, anew. Diastasis recti: who knew?