Or should the title of this post be “Like a virgin?”
ahhh, post-D&E sex. Let’s discuss it. Because God knows I won’t stop discussing my sex life with Nate simply because I’ve lost a baby. I fear my blog would lose all purpose if we weren’t contemplating ass clapping every so often. (side note: no ass clapping occurred as there is no need to get knocked up at the present time)
I was scared. I’ll admit it. I’ve heard horror stories of girls breaking down into sobbing, snotting messes for their first intimate rendezvous after a miscarriage. Not to mention that my vagina still felt like it was lined with barbed wire. And Nate was terrified that he would hurt me.
apprehensive wife + scared husband = teenage-virgin-in-the-back-0f-a-chevy-tahoe-esque sex
::side eye:: eerrrr…right.
But it went smoothly, thanks to my good friend Mr. K. Y. Jelly. Lots of it. I mean…lots. Because you need lube to make it past barbed wire. It didn’t hurt, I didn’t bleed (that was my other fear, that it would start the 15-day stuck pig experience all over again). We both highly enjoyed ourselves, wink wink nudge nudge. And no, I didn’t cry (which Nate appreciated because there’s no lower blow to the male ego than a female that blubbers post-coital). In fact, we both ended up laughing while we basked in our success.
The only downside is the necessity of condoms. Gawd. We haven’t used one since July, so it was difficult to snap on the rubber. Because nothing feels better on barbed wire than the friction of rubber (hence another reminder to my m/c girls to lube it up). But we absolutely cannot get pregnant now and my chart is uber-wacky, so I’ll be riding the Trojan horse for a few weeks minimum. Don’t feel sorry for me because I lost my baby; pity the condom sex, please.
