So let’s talk about sex after having a baby.
My hopes weren’t high, I’ll be honest. I’d never had a conversation with anyone about doing the deed after having a baby, except stupid ones with fellow inexperienced women about such things as the dreaded throwing a chipolata down O’Connell Street effect, boobs that you’re suddenly kicking around your knees, a belly full of silvery stretch marks and a dissatisfied partner because “it just won’t be the same, ever again”. There was also the whispered horror that your doctor makes you have sex just before your six week check, just to make sure everything is working a-okay “down there”.
Yeah, I was super-excited about getting back in the saddle.
They say that it takes your body nine months to recover after having a baby and for me this was particularly true when it came to sex. There was NO SEX for the first couple of months. Seriously, fair play to you early returners but there was just no way. No libido, no interest, chronically exhausted, feeling about as sexy as vomit-covered baby wipe.
Then I started to think that maybe it was time to give it a lash – mostly for fear that if we delayed it any longer, we’d just carry on in a nice hand-holdy platonic friendship for the rest of our lives.
There was trepidation on my part. What if I had become O’Connell Street? I’d been acing those pelvic floors but who knew if it was making any difference? What if my husband didn’t find my post-baby body attractive any more? And finally – and this was a very real worry for me because Ina May mentions it in her book – what if I ruined everything by spraying breastmilk all over proceedings? No pressure. At all.
We did it.
Phew, everything was fine.
But it felt different.
I really felt that my body had changed, and not to my liking. I wondered if it would feel like this from now on. My husband felt that “the terrain had changed” but not in an insulting way. Hmmmm.
Sure we persevered anyway and here’s the really interesting thing – a few months later, things started to get really comfortable and I started to realise hey, this is WAY better. Like WAY BETTER.
In a nutshell: faster, more frequent, longer, more intense orgasms. Hurray! A more efficient, more easily aroused post-baby me. How considerate of my body. It’s like it adapted to the new reality of a time-poor, squeeze it in when you can lifestyle. Go nine months recovery!
I bet you didn’t see that coming. I didn’t, that’s for sure. None of the books told me that could happen. Delighted!
Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s no Playboy Mansion round our way. There are now three people in our relationship and I’m not talking about the little man. It’s me, the other half and Mr Sandman. And if Mr Sandman comes a-knocking, Mistress Libido can fuck right off. Simples.
But lookit, what can I say, the sex is better than expected. When it happens….;)
Although, I reckon I will spend the rest of my life with “shhhhh, was that the child?” at the tip of my tongue.
Your turn! Oh, do tell!