I almost mentioned a bladder prolapse.

I had another workout session today with my student personal trainer. I had actually worried the first week that maybe this wasn't going to be very effective. He seemed to be going pretty easy on me and I didn't feel sore after the first couple of workouts.

Well.

He was evidently just screwing with me because now he is kicking my ass. I'm having to do things like squats and wall sits and I'm not sure why I don't get to just walk at a leisurely place on the elliptical machine and then do some yoga stretches. I had to jump today. Like actually jump. It was terrible. I can't even remember the last time I jumped for exercise. Certainly not in the past two years.

I kept thinking about a friend of mine who prolapsed her bladder doing some kind of squat jump things when she was four and a half months post-partum.

She mentioned this to me once and I thought she was exaggerating, so I asked her what she meant by that "prolapse."

And then she told me that, basically, her bladder fell out of her vagina.

OMFG. I didn't even know that was POSSIBLE in a young person. I thought it was like an urban legend.

(Are you all doing kegels now? Because I am.)

Anyway. as I was jumping today and my body was like, "Wha...? What is happening?" I kind of felt like my internal organs were sloshing around and I started wondering... Is my bladder going to fall out of my vagina?

I almost mentioned the possibility of this issue to my trainer, not because I was seriously concerned, but mostly because I feel like 22-year-old college men should probably know the havoc that pregnancy can wreak on the female body, but I decided that he should be allowed to preserve his innocence for another day.

Instead, I just kept whining. I'm the biggest whiner. I'm constantly telling him how terrible things are (like the stair step machine--which must come straight out of hell) and he just sort of smiles and then says, "Okay, so three more minutes!" I bitch about how many sets we have to do and about how hard things are and about how I feel sweaty or about how I actually worked really hard so he should imagine I have sweat stains because that's how I feel. I'm such an awesome client.

At the end of the workout (today was legs and core--I hate legs and core), we were supposed to do this exercise he calls V's. Basically, you lie down and then come up like a curl while also raising your legs straight up so your body makes a V shape.

Riiiiiight.

The thing is, if your lower abdominal muscles have been stretched into permanent droopiness due to getting pregnant three times in four years, this move is actually impossible. Like LITERALLY impossible. My lower abs have forgotten how to exist and think their job is simply to create a cute little pooch, as opposed to actually support my back. I seriously can't even do a Pilates roll-up these days--not without kinda holding onto my legs for help. It's so sad.

So my trainer showed me what he wanted me to do and I was like, "Um, no."

We had to modify (alternating legs).

I'm afraid I may be rendered immobile tomorrow.

At least my bladder remains intact.