Yeah, this is the reality of the bed’s main action. A slew of baby stuff and me frantically reading anything that may help us all get more sleep.
When my mum messaged me when I was 36 weeks pregnant saying something along the lines of ‘get your leg over now whilst you can!’ my reaction was ‘Fnarrrrrrrrrr, omg mum how rude.’
But anyway, turns out my mum was right all along (yes mum, now you have seen that in writing you might wanna skip the rest of the post.) because this is my post-partum sex diary …
24-48 hours post-partum: Oh holy fuck, I felt like I had been run over by a truck. My whole body ached, I hadn’t slept in two days, was wearing a maternity pad the size of a mattress and EVERYTHING HURT.
3 days post-partum: The midwife has a-okayed your stitches, so you might feel brave enough to take a little look with a hand mirror. DON’T. Your nether region will look like a Big Mac that’ has gone five rounds with Mike Tyson. You won’t know what is stitching and what is wild pubic hair that hasn’t been trimmed since an ambitious attempt three months ago. Safe to say, sex is far far far from your mind.
4 weeks post-partum: A super exciting new pain kicked in for me around this time, it shifted from my lovely swollen lady parts into my coccyx. I was unable to sit down without wincing, and used the nursing pillow as a make-shift donut to sit on. Physically still nowhere near recovered, mentally not even close.
5 weeks post-partum: Whilst getting a rare snuggle in bed one evening an uninvited visitor pops up and D slyly asks if at the GP check next week I will be a-okayed for sex. I snarl that I am still bleeding, haven’t had more than a few hours sleep a night, and if he thinks that he is going near me he can jolly well fuck off. Then a few other choice expletives for good measure.
At your 6-8 week GP check up: This is meant to be a mother and baby check up, but that is the biggest pile of garbage I have ever heard. Thankfully my GP is fantastic with R and gave him a good look over, answering all of my queries, and booking us in for an additional check up in six months time. However when it came to me, I got a pretty big brush off and all he wanted to know was what form of contraception I wanted to be on. THAT WAS IT. My concerns about my lady bits, and my bruised little coccyx were told that if in a further three months there were still problems to come back then.
So I left somewhat deflated, most definitely not up for anything sexual, but clutching those little pills which meant R would be having no immediate brothers or sisters.
11 weeks post-partum: WAHOO I HAVE FINALLY STOPPED BLEEDING. THIS IS A MIRACLE. I AM SO SEXY AND LIBERATED. Still not hopping into that saddle though because I’m only getting a couple of hours sleep a night, I’m covered in baby vomit and yay my hair is starting to fall out. I feel as sexy as that rogue potato you find at the back of the cupboard putting out long creepy tentacles.
12 weeks post-partum: Beginning to get the fear. I’m nervous about y’know actually doing it. What if it hurts? What if i cant feel anything? Oh god have I done enough pelvic floor exercises? What if D doesn’t like it anymore?
Please reassure me that I’m not the only one that felt like this. But anyway, I decided to get it over and done with. And it lasted about 30 seconds, there was tiny bit of ‘ouchy-stingyness’ and I felt A BIG FAT NOTHING. Well I could y’know physically feel everything, but it terms of lustful stirrings? ZILCH. How naff does lustful stirrings sound? You get the picture though, there was no getting turned on, no Blackpool illuminations, nothing.
13 weeks post-partum: Still no lustful stirrings, and R had an uncanny sense of timing – choosing to wake up and scream at a very crucial moment for his daddy. The baby is renamed cockblocker, and I romantically throw D toilet paper and lube as I prepare for another nighttime of wakefulness.
5 months post-partum: Having a full-on freakout that I will never want to have sex again, my sex life is OVER, I might as well get rid of the drawer full of toys and overpriced lingerie BECAUSE I AM NOT HORNY WHATSOEVER WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAS HAPPENED TO ME.
Turn to the ever faithful Google at 4am. And its ok gals, I don’t have to hang up my clitoris just yet. Apparently the hormones released whilst breastfeeding can also dampen your horniness, Mother nature is attempting to ensure no more babies are made whilst there’s one already at the breast.
6 months post-partum: My body is feeling a lot more like its old self, but whilst we are getting down and dirty fairly often a lot of the time it leaves me feeling quite deflated. This is rubbish.
8 months postpartum: I’ve stopped breastfeeding and am a hormonal wreck. It’s impacted upon everything and our sex life is non-existent. I cry and cry one evening feeling like I will never be back to normal, I feel fat, frumpy, and just not in the mood at all. When we do have sex I’m not enjoying it, and that makes me feel terrible.
Me and D sit and talk for ages, he reassures me over and over again that he loves me more than ever. I cry uncontrollably for three days.
9 months postpartum: Erm, hello inappropriate sexy dream? Whilst it might have been on the wierd side my brain seems to have turned ON again… (you want to know more about the dream don’t you? Well it involved Warhammer, KISS, and two of D’s best friends OOOOH now you are all intrigued, and maybe slightly worried about me)
We seem to have turned a corner, maybe it is stopping breastfeeding, maybe it is the fact that I have started putting effort into being ME again. I’ve got smooth tanned legs, I’ve had my hair done, and I am starting to feel, dare I say it, a little bit sexy?
Whilst nothing wild and radical has happened in the bedroom, lets just say I am back in that saddle.
So there you are guys and dolls, if you want some advice, here it is. Don’t rush into it, make sure you are ready not just physically but also mentally and TALK to your bloody partner. I don’t know what switched things back on, but talking to D helped so so much. I don’t think he realised how I was feeling, and y’know talking over an odd sexy dream always helps matters.
Let your freak flag fly, B xx