Symptom update: I bled >:/ GRRRRRRRRRR. But my numbers have appropriately doubled more than twice since the last test 4 days ago. So make of that what you will. hCG at 4487 and the pink TP imp returns.
Today on Ask Mormon Girl, a young woman felt guilty about being sexually attracted to her fiance. No. Seriously. I felt bad for her, but also REALLY excited that she came to the right place to ask her question. We overwhelmingly said that she should not feel guilty, she should set appropriate boundaries without pushing her future husband away, and then we bombarded her with wedding night advice. We feminist Mormon housewives are FULL of sex advice. Because sex is just about the best thing ever.
But even I admit that it lost some of its charm when we were trying to concieve. Fortunately we weren’t stuck in TTC limbo for too long and fortunately I own a LELO. So it certainly wasn’t an UNpleasant experience. I would never say, as a former co-worker did that trying to conceive was “boring”, but actually having to WORK at sex wasn’t something we’ve had to do for like. . .three years. And scheduling it? And worrying about whether or not it’s even going to work? Talk about a turn off. It took a bit more time and effort during our TTC weeks, but we made it. Both of us. Every time.
So today as I was unloading my brain of sex wisdom for the young bride, I thought of how sex, like everything else, has its seasons. If I had to label my sex seasons (okay that sounds stupid, but go with me), the first would be pre-sex. We were very open about sex prior to actually engaging in it. Openness and consideration were the key attributes in our happy honeymoon. Our honeymoon wasn’t fancy, but it was maybe one of the best weeks in my life. The second key attribute was a willingness to experiment and have fun no matter how silly things get. The third was the unparalleled sex tome, The Guide to Getting it On (over 800 pages of bawdy, irreverent, yet highly moral sex instruction. I highly recommend to non-prudes)
Then there was the year post honeymoon. This was probably the most difficult for our sexuality and I wish I could go back and re-live it, only this time OFF the pill. I always enjoyed sex, but I didn’t have that urgent, aching libido that I had before going on the pill. Without the novelty and complete focus of our honeymoon, getting in the mood was much more difficult. Figuring out my own body took time. Figuring out eachother took work. I wish we had been more patient with ourselves, more willing to relax, less focused on an end goal. It was also during this time that I learned that jet-lag was bad. Very bad for my arousal. Ultimately, we had to loosen up.And apparently, according to fMH anecdotes, this is perfectly normal.
Finally for my second and third year of sexy sex I am happy to report that we lived it up. The success of those years was probably due to the education we earned during our first year. Knowing what works makes all the difference. Plus we made a conscious effort to de-program our brains from years of incorrect sex instruction in YM/YW. We never thought we were prudes. But the cumulative effect of those years kept many pleasurable activities, naughty discussions, and hand-held devices out of the bedroom for an unforgivably long time. And perhaps best of all, I quit the pill. Oh, the liberation!
Then as we discussed earlier, there was the TTC stage. So what’s the next season of sex? Pregnancy should be interesting. I say this as if it’s some distant future event, forgetting that I’m actually pregnant, but I mean REALLY pregnant. Not worried I’m about to miscarry at any moment pregnant. Big belly necessitates a glance at the Kama Sutra pregnant. That pregnant.
I imagine that sex as a parent will probably be the most challenging stage ever based on these simple calculations of my personal preference: Tired me and horny me are mutually exclusive. The louder the better, and WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED TO MY VAGINA? Even when my nether regions heal and my kid no longer requires midnight feedings, it will be a challenge to get it on. I imagine it’s like trying to have sex when you have a roommate on the other side of the wall. Only possibly more awkward. I’m thinking a soundproof room and a nanny oughta put our sexlife back on track. But I have no idea. Is it as horrible as I imagine it will be? In theory, I’ve met people with more than one child, so it must work some of the time, right?