2004-02-23 - 2:26 p.m. - Cycle day:

I keep meaning to approach this issue, but other things always distract me. Which is fitting, I guess. Anyway...

The Husband and I had sex last night.

("Yeah, so?")

For the first time since M. was born.

("Ohhhhh.")

I wanted to write it down, because I spent a lot of time feeling like we weren't normal. Like we were supposed to be diving at each other once I got the doctor's go-ahead at my 6-week post-partum check-up. But I'm starting to realize that the range of normal is really wide when it comes to this issue, and that it's a lot more complicated than it seems.

For starters, we were both scared. The Husband saw everything I went through during labor, and I'm sure that it seemed like healing from that would be a monumental task. And I was nervous about the pain, too. Especially since my stupid granulation tissue still doesn't seem to understand that it's supposed to be underneath my skin, not outside of it. For the last few months, I've gone through this serpentine cycle - the tissue grows in an inconvenient spot, then fills with blood and turns a lovely shade of purple, then bleeds and/or falls off and leaves a bleeding disconnection spot. Sexy, huh? I kept planning to see my doctor about it, but when I'd remember to check on it, I'd be in the pre-regrowth stage. It was always in the back of my head, though - where else was the tissue growing? Was it causing me to heal up where I shouldn't? So yes, the fear of pain was mutual.

And then of course there was the typical new parent time/energy issue. When we did have a spare moment - when M. was both asleep and in a different room, which in and of itself was rare - we were so tired that the mood just didn't overwhelm us.

One of the biggest problems I didn't even know about, however, was simple communication. I thought I made it clear that I was ready to give it a go, but in reality, I was just dropping hints rather than clearly stating it. I bought contraception and then sat back, assuming The Husband would parse the clue. I even got pretty frustrated when nothing happened. And then, after weeks of feeling rejected, I just straight out asked if he wanted to make love (okay, fine, I really said "get it on"). And he said sure. Just like that. "All I had to do was ask?" "Yep." "Ohhh."

I'm not going to go into gory details, because this ain't that kind of diary, but I do have to mention some of the more comical moments. M. fell asleep in our bed, so we slipped off into the guest/baby room. We had to push several armfuls of stuffed animals off the bed first, of course, and they kept crinkling and jingling and squeaking. very romantic. Fortunately I did enough reading to know how breastfeeding hormones would affect my response, so I had stocked some all-natural lubricant, but I hadn't thought to open the package first, so The Husband was trying to open the safety seal in the dark, and not knowing the consistency, he accidentally squeezed a giant dollop of the stuff right onto my belly. Then the condom broke (still early on, fortunately). It was very much like high school sex. Or what I suppose high school sex was like for the kids who were having sex in high school. And then, like some ridiculous movie, everything was going great and the stars were aligned and the fireworks were about to go off and .... waaaaaaaaah. The timing was amazing. M. woke up in that bad dream sort of way and couldn't settle herself back down. We finished up the best we could, but the moment was pretty much obliterated. It was okay, though. That's how it is now. What can you do but laugh and comfort the baby and try to find the condom wrappers so the baby sitter doesn't find them in the morning?

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