I didn’t have time to organise a birthday present for my husband – so I stuck a bow on myself. Ta dah!
Sex after pregnancy is not the same. All women feel differently of course but for me, my mojo has gone.
I have thought a lot about the possible reasons for my lack of interest:
- I have not got my pre pregnancy body back. Logistically my clothes don’t fit, this includes lingerie. It’s hard to get your game on while holding your stomach in!
- After a C Section your stomach is part yours, part numb, part jelly. Don’t remember Will Smith singing about that level of Jiggy.
- I’m knackered. All the time. There is no exhaustion quite like the type caused by a baby. Channing Tatum could be waiting in my bed – I still would choose to sleep.
- Chances are I have not showered today, or yesterday. I have to be minty fresh before I get fresh. Spontaneity is not my strong suit especially when personal hygiene is involved.
- Even though its been months since I stopped breastfeeding and expressing. I have trouble seeing myself as a sexual woman. The flashbacks of the industrial breast pumps, used in the hospital, made me feel like a farmyard cow. A feeling that is very hard to shake.
- Our baby is still in our room! She doesn’t sleep well and her nursery isn’t ready yet. 11.3 kilos of passion killer right there!
- Zero quality time. I need to be romanced. A quick 20 minutes before bed, with the sound of my daughter’s white noise machine in the background, doesn’t get me there.
All that aside – Adult time for my husbands birthday was happening. First time since mid February. Poor man. He is so patient with me. We don’t have childcare so a traditional date night is out if the question. At the moment we are having ‘long term relationship’ sex. We don’t undress each other. There is no wild antics. There is a subtle ‘go for launch’ signal given then we strip and get to it.
After a successful orbit around the moon, we are fully dressed and back downstairs, tidying the kitchen and putting the house back together in preparation for the next day. No afterglow spooning or pillow talk. Our post-coital beverage will be a cup of tea enjoyed alongside an episode of a Netflix series. Saucy!
I am trying to remind myself that we are both in our thirties. Despite this, we are very quickly heading towards reading glasses and novels on our night stands! Shit – we are a 30-something Darby and Joan!
I’m sorry, you’ve reached Darby and Joan. We are not in right now. We are at a garden centre looking at hanging baskets. If the mood takes us, we might stop at a quiet tea room and part take in a pastry…please leave a message.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep