When I found out I was pregnant, I assumed that my growing belly would mean a dwindling sex drive. To my surprise, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Thanks to those powerful hormones, my husband and I were enjoying intimacy right up until I hit the 36-week mark—when everything took a turn for the worse.
As everyone started suggesting that sex could help induce labor, I found myself increasingly desperate to get things moving. However, the act itself became a challenge. With my belly blocking my view and no position feeling comfortable, I started to dread those final weeks of pregnancy. All I craved was sleep without the discomfort of sore hips or frequent bathroom trips. I figured that post-baby, with recovery and sleepless nights, sex would plummet down my list of priorities.
To my astonishment, once our little one arrived, I found myself feeling more desire than I had anticipated. Exhaustion didn’t seem to matter, nor did the fact that I was sporting a maxi-pad that felt like it belonged on a couch. My husband and I found ourselves reconnecting in ways that surprised us both. Even in the wee hours after feedings, we would sneak back into bed, stealing kisses like teenagers (even though we never did this back in high school).
With my heightened libido, I eagerly counted down the days to my six-week postpartum checkup. I wanted to wait for my doctor’s green light before jumping back into intimacy, and it felt like waiting for Christmas. When the day finally arrived, I was thrilled to hear that everything looked good, including my C-section incision. The doctor then casually mentioned, “Just so you know, sex after pregnancy might not be great.”
I thought, “What are you talking about? I’m ready!” But unfortunately, she was right. The first time we tried after the all-clear signal was painful—unbearably so. It felt like a completely different experience, and not in a good way.
We attempted again a few nights later, trying different positions, but it still wasn’t enjoyable. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, and it was disheartening. Sex had always been fun and easy for us, but this felt like hard work—unpleasant, painful work.
I was baffled. I had a C-section, so it wasn’t as if things were tightened up down there. I had expected things might feel loose, maybe a bit floppy, but instead, it felt like I was dealing with something entirely different. I even consulted friends, and they recommended solutions like lube—check! Or me on top—ouch! Even a glass of wine didn’t help, and I hadn’t had alcohol in nearly a year.
And let’s not forget about the baby sleeping just a room away. The idea of being intimate while worrying about waking them was anything but sexy.
Just when I was reaching my breaking point, we tried once more. To my surprise, it didn’t hurt this time. I was overwhelmed with relief and ended up crying in the middle of the act. My husband, concerned, stopped, thinking I was in pain. After reassuring him that I was fine and just really happy, we carried on.
From that moment, things gradually improved. Sure, crying mid-intimacy wasn’t the most romantic, but I was thrilled to finally enjoy pain-free sex once again. The following experiences only got better. It may take time, and everyone’s journey is different, but it does get better—just remember to keep the baby asleep!
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Summary
Navigating intimacy after giving birth can be a challenging experience, filled with unexpected emotions and physical discomfort. While the journey may start off rocky, many find that with time, things improve significantly. Communication with your partner and seeking solutions can help ease the process, leading to a fulfilling connection once again.