I don't think I can even bring myself to write down the number of months it's been since my husband and I last had sex. I'll put it this way. My newborn can no longer really be classed as such and his conception happened quite some time ago! I know, I know! Your gasps are almost audible!
I do still fancy my husband. I'm just not in the mood and I most certainly was not in the mood when I was pregnant and thankfully, nor was my husband! I don't think it was being down at the 'business end' at the birth of our first son that put him off, but rather my dogged adherence to the natural methods of inducing childbirth when my son's due date came and went and quite frankly fucked off on it's summer holidays!
Having gulped down one raspberry leaf tea too many, I enticed him into the bedroom with a 'come the fuck on then. Let's get this out of the way!' I appreciate now that comments such as 'don't touch my tummy, it's moving' and 'can you hurry up' are not particularly beneficial to the task at hand, but I wanted that baby out of me and I'd already been on a three hour route march and wolfed down a manky curry. Crikey! Hubby really must love me. Not only was I a lumbering grump-bag, I was clearly sweaty and stinky too! I blame the NCT mafia for instilling the fear of God in me at the prospect of being induced! Still, as hubby walked out of the bedroom, shielding his eyes and mumbling 'let's not speak of this again,' it was all a wasted effort, as I was induced a couple of days later!
It kind of makes sense that hubby wasn't remotely interested in my pregnant form this time round. Even so, just for shits and giggles, I would frequently put on a sterling show of mock hurt at his rejection and disinterest, chuckling away merrily when he fell for it, guffawing 'don't be a loser. It saves me a job!' So it seems that I don't comply with that chapter of the pregnancy manual, in which an earthy health professional spouts on about how you may feel more aroused and sexually open during your pregnancy. Uh uh! Nope! Not me! Any mention of 'pleasuring' or 'stroking' and I couldn't help but make an audible gag!
A newly pregnant friend of ours, however, was recently expressing the opposite effect her pregnancy was having on her, much to the wide-eyed horror of my husband and when asked how her husband felt about it, he just said 'I don't know. I haven't really ever thought about having sex with pregnant women!' 'Thank fuck for that!' was the general consensus, 'that would make you a weirdo!'
And so I'm hoping the mood will eventually come over me (no pun intended). I could list the plethora of possible reasons for my sexual despondency; lack of sleep, excessive use of loungewear (and not in the sexy, edgy, carefree manner favoured by fashion-forward clothing catalogues), lack of personal grooming (both guilty on that front), tits that rest on my tummy, the inability to have an uninterrupted conversation let alone some 'quality' time together. I hate the term 'quality time!' Oh the pressure! Mediocre or cheap and cheerful time would be a start! And so the list goes on! It looks like I might just have to leave that note somewhere a little more prominent!