If you’ve ever squeezed a small human out of your vagina, I can pretty much guarantee that sex is the very, very, very last thing you want to think about for a good... oh, I don’t know, three or four years. At least it was for me. When your business feels like it’s been through a meat grinder, the idea of putting anything in there makes you alternate between cringing in horror and crying in fear. I get it. I know. I’ve been there.
Having a baby changes you — mentally, emotionally, and physically. Not only is your baby being born, but you are being reborn into a mother. And with that rebirth comes a boatload of pain. And tearing. And stretching. And blood. And hemorrhoids. And all sorts of other horror movie caliber grisly shit. So that when you get home from the hospital, complete with your bundle of joy, all you want is your tucks pads, your toilet cushion, those cold packs they give you for your mangled womanhood, and maybe one of those squirt bottles.
It takes a substantial amount of time to get over that kind of action: not just the external healing, but inside as well.
Everything needs time to go back to where it was before.
Your partner, spouse, baby-daddy (or mama) unfortunately gets pushed to the bottom of the list of things you want messing with your vagina. If your significant other is even a little bit reasonable, they’ll be cool with waiting. If they aren’t, show them. They won’t want to go anywhere near that monstrosity once they take a good long look at what’s going on down there.
Physiologically, the changes that occur in your body in the months leading up to the birth of your baby are nothing short of miraculous. In a normal pregnancy, your body does everything perfectly to support your baby while it grows, providing a pristine environment to nurture the life growing inside you.
Then your body violently expels that baby in a volcanic eruption of agony, a blaze of glory, leaving nothing but saggy stomach, torn perineum, and insanely swollen vulva (and probably a sore throat if you labored unmedicated) as a reminder of the miracle your body performed.
Once your doctor or midwife has cleared you for sex and you’re feeling ready to get back in the saddle, so to speak, there are a few things you’ll need to mentally prep yourself for.
1. You’re gonna need lube.
Lots of it. Go for the economy size. Thank God for Amazon, because you know you don’t want to buy it at Walgreens. Use it liberally. Even if you’ve never needed lube before, trust me, you’re gonna need it now. Get the good stuff. None of that warming nonsense. You’ll thank me when it’s over.
2. It’s not going to feel good.
At all. Not even a little. You might even cry. It gets better over time, but the first time it’s gonna suck. Nothing down there is the same as it was before. The landscape has changed and it will take time to figure out how best to navigate it. Have a glass of wine (or two), grab that lube, and go slow.
3. Keep it simple.
Your favorite positions will most likely not be what you want to be doing at this time. No reverse cowgirl. No Tantra. Don’t be adventurous. This is not the night to get freaky. Make out, pretend you’re still in high school, don’t go right for the gusto. Missionary is your best friend.
4. You might pee.
Because the indignity of pooping in front of God and everybody during delivery isn’t enough, now your body just leaks pee whenever the hell it wants. And that is frequently during sex or orgasm. Squirting? Nope. That’s just pee. Might want to bring a towel to lie down on just in case.
5. You might bleed.
Good thing you already have a towel.
6. If you had an episiotomy, things are going to be REALLY tight.
Like, REALLY tight. Good for him? Not so good for you.
7. Your milk might letdown mid-doin’-it and squirt your partner in the face.
Let him know ahead of time. Or don’t. #tricks
Sex after baby is different, it’s uncomfortable, and it may be the absolute LAST thing you ever want to think about, but y’all, it’s necessary. Wait until you’re ready, and get back to it. Your relationship with your partner deserves the time and the closeness. You deserve to feel like a woman, not just a mama. It’s worth it, y’all. It’s scary as hell, but be brave and just do it. It gets better and pretty soon it will be good again.