<p>It's one thing to wish for a baby boy or girl, quite another to make it happen. <strong>Amanda Mitchison</strong> meets the couples heading abroad – where the sex selection business is booming</p>
One month became two, two months became three, three became four, and all of a sudden I realized that we hadn’t been intimate in five months. My very patient husband began dropping hints and offering lots of back rubs. I don’t think I was nervous about having sex or anything. My baby’s delivery had been remarkably straightforward, and I’d healed just fine.
So on our wedding anniversary, I put the baby to bed early, slipped on something a little sexy, and lit some candles. Things seemed to be going well, right up until the moment of insertion.
And then when I had my second baby, I was petrified that it would happen again. Sure enough, when we tried having sex about 4 months after he was born, it was agonizing. But the pain wasn’t quite as intense this time, and with lots of lube and lots of patience, it only took a few weeks this time around for our sex life to return to almost normal.
I had trouble after my first baby and we didn’t have sex for six months. Eventually got better. I did have a small tear (4 stitches) and am very pain sensitive. The scar hurt for a long time. I lucked out and had no problem the second time (also no tear). KP have you thought of trying pelvic floor physio?
Stretched out, flabby, and fatigued is how many women would describe their bodies after birth. The added pounds and downright messiness of new motherhood leave many women feeling so unattractive that they're uncomfortable with the idea of merely taking off their clothes, never mind letting someone else touch their body. So how do you go from feeling like a baby factory to feeling like a sex goddess? Here are a few tips.
Probably the toughest sex act is the verbal one, especially for new parents who have little private time. But talking about sex after you've had a baby is almost as important as doing it. You and your partner will both benefit from honest discussions about how having a has changed your sexual needs and expectations. Don't forget that your partner probably has as many issues surrounding your brand-new sex life as you do, Winks points out.
There are obvious steps you can take to fan your desire, like banishing the baby from your bedroom, but it's the little kindnesses that really count, says Morgan, like when you remember to stop at your husband's favorite bakery on the way home from work. But all the flowers and compliments in the world won't enhance your sex life if you don't make time for it.
Schedule sex on your calendar, just as you would any other important date. That spontaneous, lusty, do-me-on-the-living-room-floor sex you enjoyed before parenthood is probably something that will be relegated to vacations. Plus, anyone with a small knows that by the time thes are in bed, the dishes are done, and the two of you are finally alone, sleep often wins out over sex. So get creative. Jump in the shower together for a morning quickie if the baby's happy in his playpen, schedule weekend sex during baby's nap time, or talk to a neighbor who might be willing to feed your toddler dinner on Wednesday nights if you take hers on Thursdays.
And after you do all this footwork and scheduling to make your sex life a priority, don't disappoint yourself by comparing it to what it was pre-baby. Don't think of this as a loss of adventure and spontaneity, but as an opportunity to reinvent your sexual partnership.
Some of these differences in sexual behavior come down to class and education. Regnerus and Carbone and Cahn all see a new and distinct “middle-class morality” taking shape among economically and socially advantaged families who are not social conservatives. In Regnerus’s survey, the teen-agers who espouse this new morality are tolerant of premarital sex (and of contraception and abortion) but are themselves cautious about pursuing it. Regnerus writes, “They are interested in remaining free from the burden of teenage pregnancy and the sorrows and embarrassments of sexually transmitted diseases. They perceive a bright future for themselves, one with college, advanced degrees, a career, and a family. Simply put, too much seems at stake. Sexual intercourse is not worth the risks.” These are thes who tend to score high on measures of “strategic orientation”—how analytical, methodical, and fact-seeking they are when making decisions. Because these teen-agers see abstinence as unrealistic, they are not opposed in principle to sex before marriage—just careful about it. Accordingly, they might delay intercourse in favor of oral sex, not because they cherish the idea of remaining “technical virgins” but because they assess it as a safer option. “Solidly middle- or upper-middle-class adolescents have considerable socioeconomic and educational expectations, courtesy of their parents and their communities’ lifestyles,” Regnerus writes. “They are happy with their direction, generally not rebellious, tend to get along with their parents, and have few moral qualms about expressing their nascent sexuality.” They might have loved Ellen Page in “Juno,” but in real life they’d see having a baby at the wrong time as a tragic derailment of their life plans. For this group, Regnerus says, unprotected sex has become “a moral issue like smoking or driving a car without a seatbelt. It’s not just unwise anymore; it’s wrong.”
