It does not always go back to normal.

I know that a lot of women worry about what their nether regions will look like after their baby is born. And in most cases, your vagina will go back to normal and you'd never know by looking at it that a baby came out of it.

But sometimes, it does not go back to normal. &When; that happens, it's devastating. You will have moments where you wonder if it was worth it and you will feel entirely alone because there aren't many other people who know what you are going through. Most mommies get to have their babies and have their genitals stay beautiful. And no one wants to hear your story because they don't want to have to worry that this will happen to them.

We shouldn't be ignored because our stories are rare, scary, or different. It is lonely enough not having anyone to relate to and is even more lonely when no one can even be bothered to listen to you.

You are not any less of a woman if you are irreparably changed after you give birth. You still should get to talk about your birth experience, you are allowed to talk about your insecurities, and you are allowed to tell your story even if it can be scary to others. Here is my story, as short as I can make it.

On December 10th 2016 at 9 p.m, I started having painful contractions two minutes apart. I was 38 weeks and 4 days. I went into L&D; and they sent me home. My contractions continued to be about two minutes apart that entire weekend and L&D; kept sending me home. On December 12th at 8 a.m, I lost my mucus plug. At 5 p.m, my OB finally saw me in L&D.; He said that he was worried about how long I was having these contractions for (currently 44 hours) and set an induction for 12 hours later. I expressed trepidation for being induced, but he said it was what is best for the baby. I was sent home to get some rest first, but you try resting after 44 hours of contractions every two minutes.

The induction was started at 5 a.m. on December 13th. Contractions were still two minutes apart. I hadn't hardly slept since they started the contractions started 56 hours ago. They did the induction with pitocin and I refused pain medication. I was ready to push at 3 p.m.

After two and a half hours of pushing, bursting several hemorrhoids in the process, and having severe leg pain from having my legs up that long, they decided something was wrong. My son was stuck. He was facing sideways with his face toward my hip instead of face up or face down. My OB decided that forceps was the only way to go. He said that if he did not use the forceps, my baby might be harmed.

How can you not agree when you are told that your baby is in danger?

At 5:24 p.m, after about 68.5 hours of contractions every two minutes, my son came into the world. His face was bruised and swollen, but aside from the tiniest bit of jaundice, he was healthy. He was 39 weeks exactly. It was the best moment, but also one of the worst, in my life.

I had two tears and stitches. For three days, I could not walk at all and for three weeks, my 95 year old grandmother walked faster than me.

A photo of my son:

His name is James, but he goes by Jaime. Anyone with smartass comments can fuck off. You see what you look like being squashed squeezed by a uterus for 68 hours, being trapped by a birth canal for 2.5 hours, and having someone yank you out with giant salad tongs on your head.

Six weeks later, I was taking a shower and I felt something bulging from my vagina- two things, actually. They are my bladder and the back wall of my vagina. It looked like ground hamburger meat and a cow's tongue were coming out of it.

I suffer from constant hemorrhoid clusters that often are thrombosed. I breastfed for 15 months and my boobs went from perky, round As to one B and one C that are shaped like traffic cones.

But I was under my pre-birth weight of 98 lbs by two weeks of having my son. And because I did not struggle with my weight, I was "lucky."

My son is now 19 months old and I am 31 weeks and 3 days with his little brother, Dean.

I have struggled with hating my body. It is ruined and it will never, ever be the same. My vagina and my asshole are a trainwreck. They will never be normal and they will never be beautiful again. My boobs will probably never be the same again either.

I have wanted to hurt myself and I have wanted to die. Most women's vaginas go right back to normal, so I have lost myself in the "Why Me's."

I have felt unattractive and disgusting. I have looked in the mirror and cried until I had no tears left.

And bless my husband's sweet heart because he has stuck with me through it all. I know that there is no way he hasn't looked at me down there and felt turned off by the disfigurement. But he has never made me feel that way. He doesn't like to hear me talk about how much I hate my body. He has continued to be intimate with me, despite it looking like a monster clawed his way out of my genitals, ripping and tearing his way out. He has stayed with me through my depression and he has worked long, hard hours to make sure that I could be home with my son because neither of us wants to leave him with anyone. He is my knight in shining armor.

I was told later, by another doctor, that C-Section probably would have been the better option for my baby. And that forceps carry a high risk of prolapsed. I was never told this beforehand or maybe I'd have chosen a C-Section instead. But I was told "Dr. H is one of the best doctors with the usage of forceps in the state. Nothing is going to go wrong."

I have a new doctor with this second pregnancy. My due date is September 23rd. They have since shut down the L&D; in my city and I will have to drive 30 minutes to the next city to have my baby.

👆Most recent picture I have, from 3 weeks ago.

My mom, sister, and husband were all in the room while I birthed my son. It traumatized my mom. She talks about how scary it was all the time and she is very scared for me this time around. She asks me a lot if I am nervous or scared, but I'm not. I think the odds of going through such a horrible experience again are low. I am glad to have a new doctor and to be giving birth in a different hospital.

This is my son, Jaime, now. He is 19 months old and though he does not understand it yet, he will soon be a big brother. He's my entire life, my perfect little angel. If there was ever anything worth sacrificing any chance of being beautiful again, he is that reason.

Every time I tell my story, it is largely ignored. My comments about his birth and my problems after are usually ignored as well. Even though it is rare, some of us are ruined by childbirth. We shouldn't be ignored just because our situations are less common and more scary for first time mothers.

To those of you who were forever changed by the birth of your child, you are not alone. It's okay to feel scared, to feel sad, to wonder if it was worth it. It's not okay that you have to feel alone, though. Your story is not any less important than anyone else's.