During my first pregnancy, I was rushed into an emergency cesarean section because my daughter became trapped inside my birth canal after 45 minutes of pushing. My OB-GYN sarcastically refers to it as “the best of both worlds,” because I got to labor until she was crowning before being rushed into surgery.

My pelvic floor doesn’t see it that way. As an added bonus to the physical trauma that I endured, the night after I gave birth, the swaddle my newborn daughter was tightly wrapped in loosened and covered up her face. She was crying—screaming, actually—but my sleep apnea-afflicted partner snoozed away. I thanked my lifelong ability to wake at the sound of a pin drop for helping me snap to consciousness in that moment. Before I could remember that I had a fresh 14-inch long incision across my waistline, I lurched forward to aid my newborn.

Days later, I woke up covered in blood with a split c-section incision. My mom puked at the sight of my partner cleaning up the wound. That’s when I realized I had retraumatized the location when I adjusted my daughter’s swaddle. After a 6 a.m. ambulance to the emergency room, a return trip to the ER a week later due to more bleeding, a subsequent infection, drainage appointments, and two weeks of motherhood, I finally began the journey to physical healing. For more than six years after, though, I suffered from incontinence.

Since giving birth, laughing, sneezing, coughing, jumping on the trampoline with my children, or even screaming along to my favorite song in the car has left me leaking. Sex with my husband was often so painful that we had to stop. When these issues began, I had not yet begun my sexual and reproductive health graduate course and did not know that a c-section could cause a pelvic floor injury.

I thought pelvic floor dysfunction only happened to those who gave birth vaginally. I........

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