Upon discovering I was pregnant, I assumed my growing belly would dampen my libido. To my surprise, that was far from the case. Hormones were in full swing, and my partner, Mark, and I maintained a regular sex life up until about 36 weeks into my pregnancy. Then, as the well-meaning advice about how sex could induce labor started pouring in, things took a turn for the worse.
Once I could no longer see below my belly, finding comfortable positions became a challenge. All I wanted in those final weeks was uninterrupted sleep, free from hip pain or frequent trips to the bathroom. I anticipated that after childbirth, with the recovery process and countless sleepless nights ahead, intimacy would take a backseat on my list of priorities.
However, after our baby arrived, I was caught off guard by a sudden surge in desire. Exhaustion didn’t matter, nor did the fact that I was wearing a pad the size of a small pillow. Mark and I found ourselves unable to keep our hands off each other—even during those late-night feedings, we’d sneak back into bed, sharing kisses reminiscent of our high school days (though we never actually kissed back then).
Eagerly, we counted down the days to my six-week postpartum checkup. I was determined to wait for my doctor’s approval before resuming intimacy, feeling like a child anxiously awaiting Christmas. When the day finally came, I eagerly sat in the exam room while my doctor assured me everything was healing well. She asked about birth control, and I mentioned the pill I used prior to pregnancy; she promptly offered to send in a prescription.
Then, she dropped a bombshell: “Just so you know, sex post-pregnancy may not be great.” I waved off her concerns, thinking she didn’t understand how ready I felt. “It might even feel like your first time all over again. It could hurt.”
What a shock it was when I discovered she was right. It was painful—truly awful. A few nights later, we tried again with a different position suggested by Mark, but that didn’t help much either. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, and intimacy had suddenly become strenuous and uncomfortable, which was baffling since we had never faced such issues before.
I was confused and frustrated for two reasons. First, I had a C-section, so I didn’t expect any tightening in that area. Yet, it felt like I was having sex with a telephone pole—sideways. The other puzzling thought was that, after only pushing for a few hours before the surgery, I expected my vagina to feel a bit out of shape. Instead, it felt like it had shrunk significantly.
I reached out to friends, who all suggested various remedies: lube, me on top, or even a glass of wine. While I tried everything, nothing seemed to improve the situation. The idea of intimacy while our baby was asleep in the other room was more stressful than enticing. The thought of trying to suppress cries of “Oww!” while keeping the baby undisturbed was far from sexy.
Just as I was nearing my breaking point, we tried once more. This time, to my astonishment, it didn’t hurt! Overwhelmed with relief, I found myself crying in the middle of it all. Mark, thinking I was in pain, stopped immediately. After I reassured him that I was perfectly fine, we resumed, and everything fell back into place.
Gradually, our sex life improved significantly. Each experience became better than the last, and while it took time, I learned that it does get easier. Every person’s journey is different, but there is hope for a return to intimacy after pregnancy.
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In summary, while the journey to reclaiming intimacy after childbirth can be fraught with challenges and unexpected discomforts, it’s a path that can lead to renewed connection and joy. Remember, patience is key, and things will improve with time.