Guest Post: Sex after baby (I know what you’re thinking)

When I thought about or read about what sex was going to be like after we had kids all I saw was a grey, sexless wasteland.

Grey-sexless-wasteland
Magazine articles entitled “how to protect your sex life from your kids” or “why couples don’t have sex after kids” had me picturing nights of swiping away my husband’s half hearted attempts to grope me and mornings of showering at double speed, terrified he’d get in there whilst I was naked and try to bonk me.

 

Basically I was dreading it – was I going to wake up the day after the baby was born to find my sex drive had evaporated? Was all my desire for my husband just going to go up in smoke?

The magazine articles were however kind enough to soften the blow by telling me I’d be “super horny” during pregnancy. So we took the plunge and I got pregnant.

The first thing I learned was that being pregnant didn’t make me “super horny” at all. In fact it was the opposite. That silly ho bag on the cover wearing SPORTS KIT and cradling her bump telling me I’d want it all the time was A LIAR!

From the moment that blue line appeared on the stick, I felt sick and to counteract it I stuffed my face with biscuits morning noon and night until my ass was more pregnant than my belly. That is how it remained for 9 long months. By week 30 I had upper arms like pallid, boiled hams and my butt was basically a bean bag of fat that I swear old ladies could have stopped to have a sit down on. Added to this I got full body acne, my hair was greasy, dry and completely out of control, I had bodily hair sprouting left right and centre and no will to de-fur. I did zero exercise and the thought of sex made me want to sew up my own vagina.

There was one single thing that kept us doing it. My valiant, white knight of a husband. Every night he took a deep breath and went into battle with the beluga whale he now shared a bed with. Foot massages, back rubs, hair stroking, you name it, he did it to try and make me feel attractive enough to de-clothe and allow my hefty form to be clambered upon and humped. He told me I was beautiful every day, held me as I sobbed “I look like a f*****g hippo!” Into his chest, held my hair back as I wretched and helped me take off my socks when I couldn’t reach anymore. He was like some sort of horny sex warrior, the fatter I got, the harder he persevered, nothing could deter him from making sure we were both seen to regularly. Poor, poor husband. He can’t un-see some of those terrible images he must have seen in battle.

The closer it came to the birth, the more concerned I became about getting my mojo back. We had this exact chat many times whilst I was pregnant
“We’re still going to have sex all the time you know, after the baby”
“I know”
“And it’ll be just as good as before”
“I know”
“I’m going to lose the baby weight straight away and get my mojo back”
“Stop stressing”
But I was stressing.

Then the birth happened which enforced the longest sex drought we’d ever had. However during those 6 weeks whilst my nether regions slowly retracted back to their rightful place, a miracle happened. My long lost sex drive had returned and returned with gusto. I don’t know if it was the fact that I could actually see my own vagina once more or that my mid section was no longer over a metre in circumference but whatever it was, it was welcome. So, amid many gasps of “ooooh slowly” and “more lube!” we got back on the horse.

And over the next few months as I fed my daughter and developed a cracking set of biceps from all the lifting, something interesting happened. I fell in love with my body. Sounds vain, don’t care. My body had produced a tiny, perfect, awesome little person, all by itself. It got up at 4am and fed her, it carried her around in the middle of the night, rubbing her back, it ached and hurt and had just been through a huge trauma but regardless of that it didn’t give up on us. My body was frickin’ awesome! And despite the sheer volume of marshmallow based foodstuffs I was putting into it, it was valiantly trying to get back to its normal size! Every day I recognised it a little more, a waist was trying to appear once more, my poor butt was deflating, my boobs were becoming less jumbo-jet-like every day.

confident
And with that new feeling of utter love and respect for my own body came a feeling of wild abandon when it came to using it for purposes of pleasure. Who cared if my skin was still the size of my 9 month pregnant self and now hung off me like a shar pei? Not me! And not my husband. So I hadn’t waxed for a month, big deal, I made a person!
Tiredness, yeah we were tired but we were also tried at 4am after a night out and we still did it then. Our technique for overcoming the tiredness aspect is to start when you’re both lying down comfortably and then play chicken for who gets on top. Eventually someone will crack and climb aboard. And importantly, the baby will go down at about 7pm so hot foot it to the bedroom and get busy before you relax.
The baby. Yes there’s a baby in the house, for the first few months it’ll probably even be in your room. So what? Do you remember waking up and seeing your parents having sex when you were 5 months old? Exactly, just do like we did and build a duvet fort on the side of the bed where the baby is. Mainly it’s to stop you seeing them during the act, no bigger turn off for than accidentally catching a glimpse of your baby when you’re trying to do naughty times.
curious baby
And finally, like exercising in winter, the hardest part of sex-when-you-can’t-be-arsed is starting out, then pretty soon you get into it and afterwards you feel amazing. If you start doing it, you’ll get into it and you know you’ll be glad you did afterwards.
(Thank you to our honest and brilliant guest poster for sharing her experiences, you had us snorting coffee out our nose! If you want to share your experiences in any aspect of your sex life then contact us hello@peachykeen.uk.com)
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28 October, 2015 1 tags (show)

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