My body has changed. Two pregnancies and births caused parts of me to stretch, grow, and shift. Other bits changed color. There are also amazing new things my body can do like provide sustenance and comfort for tiny humans. Most changes I felt OK about, but one left me feeling frustrated and irritated: urinary incontinence (UI). I found the right remedy for my UI symptoms in an unexpected place: a jade egg. Although jade egg practices have received public criticism by some well-regarded obstetricians, I weighed all the facts I could find and gave it a go. The results were surprising.
For me, experiencing UI symptoms felt like a loss of control (on multiple levels!). It would creep up on me in unexpected places. A sneeze in a grocery store was suddenly an unwelcome and dangerous event, and for some time trampolining with my eldest child was not an option. Of all the impacts pregnancy and birth had on my body, this was the one that affected my confidence and at times my day-to-day activities.
Ultimately UI caused a sense of disconnectedness to creep into my world. My body didn’t feel like my own and I felt stuck.
I took myself to the family doctor. The consult was less than fruitful: “It’s a common problem. Here’s a medical fact sheet. What you need to do is identify muscles around your bladder opening; just start and stop your urine stream. You could also try to tighten the muscles in your back passage. If you think about the end of a bowel movement, it will help.”
I’d never really considered my bladder opening before, and I didn’t want what to talk about my urine stream. I also felt uncertain about my “back passage.” So I left (both the appointment and later the medical practice).
Despite the confusing (and mildly alarming) instructions, in the weeks that followed I tried to do pelvic floor exercises each day. It helped a bit, but I was still ill prepared for trampolining or a sneeze attack. My newfound frustration with my body didn’t improve either.
Just as I was starting to feel desperate, I connected with some other women through yoga who’d experienced the same symptoms. They listened and I felt understood and reassured. My doctor had been knowledgeable about pelvic mechanics but didn’t grasp the emotional impact of UI.
The message of my yoga acquaintances was similar to the instruction of my doctor. I think the main difference was that the language was kinder. We talked about “pelvic wellness,” patience, acceptance, and gentle repetition. There was no mention of anyone’s back passage.
One valuable idea I picked up from this group was ritualizing pelvic exercises like you would a morning yoga practice. They suggested I choose a couple of regular moments in the rhythm of my day and make time for it. From these women, I also came to understand I needed to play a longer game. My UI symptoms weren’t going to disappear overnight; I needed a strategy based on gentle persistence.
My yoga friends also had another tool in their pelvic wellness repertoire: the jade egg. Jade egg practices are a Taoist tradition. The basis of the practice centers on using the egg while performing pelvic exercises to build vaginal strength.
It makes sense; Dr. Kegel (that is indeed his real name), the originator of the Kegel exercise, intended that women practice pelvic floor exercises with a particular device called a perineometer inserted in their vaginas. Next-generation perineometer-type devices are available today and continue to work on the principles of building strength through resistance and sensory feedback. It’s kind of like using a dumbbell to build muscle strength except you need to put the dumbbell somewhere very personal.
Like perineometers, jade eggs are inserted into your vagina and then used to perform pelvic floor exercises. Practitioners often recommend beginners do this for 15-20 minutes in one session.
A jade egg is a highly polished egg-shaped stone, with nephrite jade being the traditional choice of material. From a safety perspective, nephrite jade is a good choice because it’s both extremely tough and inert. The stone’s weight also plays a role in the egg’s effectiveness (in terms of building strength). The physical size of jade eggs varies, but a common size is around an inch and a half long.
Using a jade egg to build pelvic strength is pleasant and sensual. It feels like a positive and nurturing practice instead of sticking a medical device up your vagina.
However, the recent criticism of jade eggs isn’t surprising. There are large numbers of people calling themselves “experts” (who are just jade egg retailers) sharing volumes of misinformation and pseudoscience. I learned that you need to be discerning when researching effective technique and hygiene and only buy from a reputable supplier (a good approach when selecting any item that will end up in the most intimate part of your body).
I’ve found a regular jade egg practice to be hugely beneficial. It’s been surprisingly effective in restoring both strength and sensitivity. The practice has also helped erode the feeling of disconnect that snuck into my consciousness.
I believe our bodies are our biographies. Our experiences change us and sometimes leave visible marks behind (like scars from childhood or stretch marks from pregnancy). Sometimes the body’s changes (like UI) aren’t highly visible but are keenly felt. These changes can feel unwanted and overwhelming when we don’t know how to navigate them. Compassionate understanding and proactive self-care can go a long way in helping us adjust and move forward.
UI gave me a lesson in patience and gentle persistence. It also led me to a nurturing body practice that has imparted far-reaching benefits — not a bad takeaway from something that initially seemed like an awful and unwanted change.
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