I stretched a lot in childbirth. I hate the way I look down there now, and worry my husband can’t feel anything. Isn’t there something I can do about this?

Ian: The real culprit of “too looseness” is often the tone of a woman’s pelvic floor muscles. While most women find that things get more or less back to normal three to six months after birth, some might have more damage, depending on the size of their babies, the number of births, and of course, Kegels. (Yes, I know, it’s as tedious as flossing, but like flossing, has a real payoff. Beyond that, you can do them when you’re actually having sex—it’s fun, and then, you’re done...). Recent research also hints that the long-term tone of your pelvic floor muscles may ultimately have more to do with your heredity than vaginal birthing.

Heidi: Someone emailed me asking about plastic surgery for her vagina because she was “disfigured” from her son’s birth. Yikes. That doesn’t seem right to me. I mean, I’m no doctor (though I like to play one with my man sometimes), but that seems excessive.

Ian: It’s called vaginal rejuvenation surgery. It’s a procedure that used to be reserved for serious problems like congenital malformations, incontinence, or serious injuries related to childbirth. Now, they’re something women can do in an outpatient clinic if they have enough money and don’t feel their precious bits are up to standard for one reason or another. If a loose vagina is bothering you—for you—then by all means let’s fix that. Talk to your medical caregiver about tools (or toys!) that can help you do your Kegels more efficiently, or ask if she can refer you to a physiotherapist. In the meantime, make sex more enjoyable as is—try using a small vibrator inside you at the same time your partner is, or use your hands to add pressure and sensation.

Heidi: Yes—I’m all for women doing what they need to do to feel good about themselves in and out of bed, but it should be for herself, not because she’s worried about someone else’s pleasure. It’s another wrinkle in the perfect, rather than real, mother phenomena; perfect mothers bear children with no scars or physical changes, perfect mothers look youthful and energized, perfect mothers don’t age, get wrinkled, or wear ugly sweatpants because they’re too fucking tired to get dressed. Perfect mothers have tight, perky vaginas to give their husbands maximum pleasure—never mind that for most of us the clitoris is where our pleasure is really at.

Ian: That’s right. If you’ve tried everything else and your doctor recommends it, surgery may indeed be the right choice. But it should be the last choice, not the quick fix first one, and not one because you’re uptight about your imperfections or afraid you look like Frankengina. Of course, if things continue to “not feel right” after your six-week checkup, don’t let it go unchecked.

Heidi: Maybe we’re supposed to be a little looser after childbirth. Maybe it allows us to stretch and get deeper into things with our partner, deeper into our appreciation of our bodies and deeper into embracing our imperfections. Because as freaky as it is to feel like things aren’t the way they were before motherhood, more freaky is the idea that it doesn’t change us at all.