Those of you with small children present, any men who are related to me, and anyone with delicate sensibilities should not read on. This entry is about having the sex...or not...during pregnancy and I had to get some graphic issues off my plate. You've been warned.
So, there are certain things during pregnancy that they don't warn you about...not even in med school. I may have mentioned before that there comes a time in pregnancy when you want nothing to do with your spouse romantically, but this is quickly recouped and you can't keep your hormonal hands off him. What they don't tell you...John and Dad, I wasn't kidding...you should quit reading here...is that this is somewhat of a double edged sword.
While you've been growing this healthy, little monster, he's been ever present in your day with all his crazy movements that just seem to become more and more frequent as the days pass by. The 'duh' moment comes when you realize that just because you're exhausted and need to get started on your nightly 10 hours of shut-eye, that doesn't mean he's got the same game plan. This holds true for other times when you might not want to be so aware of his movements...say when you're thinking about giving your hubby a smoochie with the hopes that it'll lead to more. The parasite says 'hold on here, I thought you were gonna eat some ice cream. You're not? Well, I'll kick and punch and practice front flips until you quit doing whatever's causing all that ruckus and get back on track with the eating.' Needless to say, if he decides to throw this little temper tantrum in the middle of the horizontal tango, the moment is officially ruined for you. Simultaneously with your evaporation of desire, you then feel it's a good idea to udder a sentence like, 'aw, dude. It's so weird when you're thrusting and he's kicking,' and then there's no longer anything to thrust. Talk about a cock block...almost literally. So you find yourself in this catch-22 where you WANT to make some beautiful music and your husband KNOWS you want to, but it just not happening because this one pound, eleven inch long creature will be the inevitable uninvited wet blanket who will make it a pretty short-lived party.
If the constant dance team practice in your stomach wasn't enough, there are other reasons why this is a ridiculously sexually frustrating period of life. You don't want it, then you want it, then you have to have it, but you can't actually get it, and then you're so big, you're afraid you're sweetie will get lost in the enormity that is your 'delicates.' The other big issue here, pun intended, is that there are parts of you that change during pregnancy. The hips get a little wider, there's a little more padding in the trunk and on your pubic bone and the inside bits have some minor alterations as the uterus grows as well. This is a boring translation for 'stuff doesn't live where it used to so the things that used to get you there before don't always work anymore.' This sucks. Maybe this isn't common, but when it didn't used to be that hard to get to the fireworks and fanfare and now no single position/activity is bringing it home for you, you start to go a little crazy. And every time he flaunts the fact that, 'nope, no problem for me. I'll just finish up here,' you start to go a little batshit crazy. Then you start to avoid any encounter that may lead to anything remotely intimate, because even though you'd cut off your left pinky toe for some satisfaction, you know it aint happening, so you run the other direction in hopes that he'll forget that he's in the mood too. You find yourself starting to say silly things like, 'oh no, you go ahead and take care of that dear,' and hope he has enough left in the fantasy reel to get you through the next few months with minimal participation. I'm not trying to be a bad wife here or advocate initiating a 10-month lock down on the goods, but come on. You can't give me enough hormones to make me crazier than a horny fifteen year old boy and then not give me a way to find some release. That's just not cool.
Now, all my pregnant friends laugh when I tell this story and tell me to get over it because no one expects you to be a porn star while gestating. I giggle because they're all laughing for different reasons. One tells me that she and her husband bumped uglies approximately 2.5 times during the entire pregnancy and you don't even want to know what the .5 part pathetically consisted of. Another tells me that she, sadly, had three orgasms during pregnancy despite their nearly weekly encounters. 3/40 is not an average I'm swinging for. Yet another tells me that her husband had zero interest as soon as he found out his progeny was seeded in her womb and she actually had more sexual encounters (solo and on the D.L.) during pregnancy than any other time in her life. Another, whom I don't believe one bit, says they used to have sex once a month or so, so skipping out on the 'chore' for nearly a year of preggers wasn't that big a deal. I didn't ask what her husbands thoughts on the topic were...or what his boyfriends name is. Just kidding.
Now, I'm not going to say that it never happens or that with slight adjustment here and there...okay alot of research, practice and adjustment, you can't find something that resembles a middle ground and you can resume some amorous activity with some success. It just seems like with all the getting fat, breaking out, emotional outbursts, and libido on crack, that those of us in the knocked up club could use a little break and maybe this was one time in our lives that this particular activity would be easier and more satisfying. You would think that would be a good idea or some kind of payback for all the crap we go through while being in the family way, but what you would think...more correctly, what I think...seldomly turns out to be the way things really are. Oh well, here's to 18 more weeks of bliss?
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