Sex?…Yeah, Right! Go Poke a Light Socket!

(Still Not in the Mood)

If I heard the word sex mentioned in our house I ran into the bathroom, locked the door, plugged my ears, and started yelling “LALALALALALALALA” to get the thought out of my head. There was no way, no how, I was planning on having sex until I was ready. There was no mercy sex or even blow jobs going on in my household at all. At this point I thought porn was the best thing ever invented. I would much rather have my husband go watch a video than come within ten feet of me. This had nothing to do with not being attracted to him. He’s a naughty-looking surfer boy, and I love riding any wave he’s got when I’M ready!!! But I had no idea that being “healed” enough to have sex and actually wanting to have sex were two completely different things.

The one thing your doctor will tell you and your husband after delivery is to refrain from sex for about six weeks. I think all husbands roll their eyes, and most women want to say, “That’s all? But I blew out my vagina and I can’t even sit comfortably. You think in six weeks I’m gonna let him bang around in there? You’re nuts.”

What I say to that is, “YOU’RE RIGHT.” To me, six weeks was so not the thing I wanted to hear. So I made sure I told my doc ahead of time to tell my husband at least three months. My doctor wanted my future business, so he did word it to say that “in Jenny’s case,” it would be good to wait about three months. AHH!! Thanks, Doc!

I did feel sorry for my husband at times. He had a glaze over his face, and developed carpal tunnel syndrome in his wrist from overworking it. Not that you care, but I made up for it later. MUCH MUCH later.

Besides waiting to heal physically, I feel like there are two other factors before you’re ready: psychological and hormonal. These are my own theories, but to me they make sense. Psychologically, knowing how big your vagina got and having to squeeze a watermelon through it can kind of f*ck you up in the head. Especially if you tore and had stitches down there. In your head it just seems CRAZY to poke a penis in there even though you’re “healed.” At least in my head it didn’t seem like enough time. Then you wonder if it’s going to be a gaping hole or a cave, just like my husband’s fear of throwing a hot dog down a hallway. So even though the doc says everything’s all right “downstairs,” it’s the “upstairs” part that wasn’t allowing me to move on.

Once you get past the psychological part of it all, you still go through the hormonal part. That’s all your husband wants to hear, right? “My canooter doesn’t hurt anymore and I’m not freaked out by your penis in there, but I just don’t FEEL like having sex.”

My mom has a great story of how, six months after having given birth, she and my dad were having sex (ew, gross) and she would tell him it STILL hurt. So she went back to the gyno and told him she thought he stitched her almost shut. The doc took a look down there and smiled. I think my mom still had enough room to land a 747, but she was so tense during sex from not wanting it that it made her feel like her canooter was sewn shut.

I remember feeling the same thing about five months after delivery when everything was supposed to be back to normal and we started having sex again. Something was wrong. Not just being exhausted from sleepless nights or endless poopie diapers. Sex was very different. I couldn’t have an orgasm for months, and I felt like the Mojave Desert. My husband was starting to think it was him. I assured him it wasn’t. I didn’t know what to do and I started worrying, Am I gonna be orgasmless forever? That would totally suck. I would have to give up comedy and do dramas from now on because I would be pissed off all the time.

Then I saw one of those ads on TV showing women in menopause who lost their sex drive and found out they were lacking testosterone and used some sort of a patch that gave them a testosterone boost. I figured that HAD to be it. Maybe the medical industry didn’t know that women who gave birth were also lacking testosterone and could use the patch. Childbirth must have sucked all of my testosterone out of my body. That had to be it!! So, I went to my gyno and told him I wanted a testosterone patch. He looked at me strangely for a beat and smiled. “Why?” he asked.

So I told him my problems, and he said that lacking testosterone was most likely not the cause, and I assured him he was wrong and I was right. I had to be right. I wanted a medical explanation for why I was feeling antisexual after so many months. The sad thing was he COULDN’T give me one. He told me to try some porn. UGH! No more porn!! I want to feel stimulated on my own, not from watching a creepy guy hump a skanky Barbie in order to get off. So I left, testosterone patch-LESS!!

Then a wise woman said to me it takes nine months to build up your pregger hormones and nine months for them to go down. I also heard that same saying in regards to my fat ass. But it was the only hope I had, and it seemed true in my case. It took at least eight months and a getaway trip with my husband to Vegas to kickstart my engine. I felt good, like a woman again. I was so grateful that my husband was so patient with me. It’s so important to communicate with your husband and let him know that it’s not him. So, now you know that if it takes a long time for you to get it ON, don’t worry cuz if this horndog eventually found delight in a boner, you will too. RUFF RUFF!