Tina's Story

Like most women, I didn’t have a clue what pelvic instability was until I was suffering from it. My symphysis pubis separated during labour and it wasn’t diagnosed until a canny midwife observed my ‘John Wayne’ waddle five days after the birth. I was given a pair of crutches and told by my obstetrician to go home, I’d be fine in two weeks. This was probably the worst bit of advice I ever received as my recovery took over a year. I believed him however and did go home.

Within a few days I knew there was no way I could cope and so my baby daughter and I spent the first three months of her life living with my mother as I needed continuous care, as did the baby. My husband couldn’t take time off work, as it would risk losing his job and the only income we had. To say it was a difficult time for all concerned would be an understatement! My husband was commuting back and forth to my mum’s trying to get some semblance of quality time with us. There wasn’t a day when I didn’t have him running to some all-night pharmacy to get breast pumps, lotions, breast pads or other alien items. I was in constant pain and felt like a burden to everyone. My mum was a trooper and would get up for every feed during the night to change nappies and lift the baby (my little girl was feeding 1 ½ hourly so when I say ‘trooper’ I mean one with big boots and the shiniest of gold buttons on her coat).

This time was probably when I was at my lowest point, both physically and emotionally, as I was in considerable pain, basically housebound (except on a weekend when I got what I learned to call ‘day release’ to visit a café with my husband and baby) and I felt like a complete failure as a mother. At times it felt like the entire family had to rally around my pelvis, not my firstborn child. Luckily I found the Pelvic Instability Association at around this time. It was totally by accident that my physiotherapist gave me a leaflet that mentioned them. I spoke to some of the members and attended a support meeting. What a relief to realise that I wasn’t the only woman on the planet who owned a dodgy pelvis!

It was also around this time that I was able to go home. I still couldn’t manage stairs so I didn’t see my bedroom for another three months. I gave our guest bedroom a good workout though. Although I was able to lift my baby daughter by three months, it wasn’t until she was six months old that I felt confident in giving her a cuddle and twelve months before I was walking her in her pram and then I began to realise what my condition had taken from me. The first year of her life I had been completely taken up with dealing with the pain, physios, doctors, guilt, fear etc. my pelvis hadn’t allowed me to register her arrival and connect with her fully. I decided to celebrate her arrival with a picnic in the park complete with our favourite food; sultanas, crackers and cheese sticks. A bit late, but monumental for me as it was the point where I decided to live my life, not my pelvis’ life. Sure, I had to take certain precautions, but I wasn’t prepared to let what good there was around me be clouded by the negative.

I also learned to laugh at some of the predicaments my condition put me in. I remember visiting my osteopath who specialised in pelvic disorders in the sporting field. You can just imagine the look on all the AFL football players’ faces when I limped into the waiting room, pushing my six month old in her pram. Then there was the time when I felt well enough to show my little girl there was nothing to be frightened of going down a tubular slide. I had to lie down to fit and knew I couldn’t use my feet as brakes so I just let go - and shot off the end - landing flat on my back in the chipped bark. “See Chrissy, nothing to worry about at all,” I commented, pulling my skirt off my head and back over my knickers. Thankfully, only my pride was dented.

It’s been over two years since my pelvis gave way and a hard road travelled to get here, but a lot of good has come out of it. My little girl was two in May and she is a pure delight (terrible twos and all). I have started my own advertising business from home, as I couldn’t return to an office job. This is something I had dreamed of doing, but without my condition I would never have done anything but dream. I’m also a committee member of PIA, which means I get to work alongside an awesome group of women and meet our strong and brave members who are all working towards bettering every woman’s experience with this condition. I’m always amazed and inspired by the courage and fortitude everyone shows. It also amazed me that women in the group were prepared to go through it again and have more children – until I fell pregnant again myself. I’m twenty-six weeks pregnant and when people question why I’d put myself at risk I respond that, “I’m living my life, not my pelvis’.”

Update

I can’t believe it’s been nearly seven months since I wrote about my pelvic woes. I am now four months post pregnancy and my little boy is gorgeous (my three year old daughter thinks so too and takes every opportunity to poke and squeeze ‘her baby’).

Whilst my pregnancy was more problematic this time as my pelvic, and lower back pain were moderate to severe, I had a better time of it post labour. I was on crutches for only four days before my wonderful physiotherapist gave me a firm pep talk and the confidence to try living without them. As it turned out, my exercises and a little time were what I needed and I had resorted immediately to the crutches post labour because of the fear of my pelvis falling apart again. It hasn’t. Within three weeks I felt good enough to be left at home with both the children on my own. By the twelve week mark I was back to walking around our shopping centre, with many coffee stops on the way, and at four months I am able to take the dog, pram, toddler and any willing neighbours and friends for a walk. I have some pain if I overdo it, but an ice pack and a night watching trashy television programs soon eliminates this. I’m even thinking about starting a mini-fitness drive with swimming and spin classes.

My family and friends are amazed at how different I looked and felt this time…so am I! But then I thought about it and realised it was because I was better prepared and knowledgeable about my condition. I knew to line up family, friends and the medical professionals I trusted in advance and use the support and information from PIA and its members, which was great. My mottos were, ‘prepare for the worst and hope for the best’ and ‘if it didn’t work the first time, don’t do it again’, so I changed my obstetrician and maternity hospital to great effect. My mother was awesome once again and this time she came to stay at our house, loaded with two tonnes of good Greek food, love, an assortment of hand knitted baby goods and her own bedding (to save me having to wash any). It was obvious by the fourth night that I was able to look after the baby on my own so she retreated to her kitchen and sent us home cooked meals every two days, a bit like Lite ‘n’ Easy, only with mammoth portions.

Regardless of how I felt physically, there was still the fear and emotions surrounding my condition to deal with so this time I organised a few sessions with a counsellor to deal with any lingering issues I had about my abilities as a mother when I had a physical disability. This was really valuable as it helped me to realise that I am a good mother, even though I can’t put my baby in a pram and walk him around Melbourne. If I ever challenge myself on this point, I only have to look at how happy and healthy my children are and that helps.

The second time around has come with its own challenges and successes, but I’m really glad I went ahead and did it and so long as I can complain more about sleep deprivation than I do my pelvis, I’m doing alright.

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This site was last modified on 14/09/2008