We found a few minutes to have sex the other day. I’m not going to jazz it up and pretend it was anything other than what it was. My husband put the baby in his crib to play with a book and some toys. We had somewhere between 7-10 minutes to be intimate before Wyatt decided he’d had enough alone time.
It was enough to make us feel human again, to bring us back to who we were before a baby joined us. I do wish we could find more moments like this.
The baby started whining and fortunately the timing was perfect for one of us.
Mike got up to get the baby and then, he said it.
”Alright sperm… Get swimming!”
Wow. Talk about a mood killer. But, it wasn’t the mood that was most affected.
He didn’t foresee how gutted I would feel after he said it. He didn’t realize how many emotions 4 words could stir up. He didn’t mean for it to be hurtful.
Honestly, I think he was trying to be hopeful.
Each time I’ve mentioned having a second child, Mike tells me not to rush it and that we don’t need to worry about it now. All of a sudden it’s on his mind?
Should I embrace his positivity? Isn’t it a good thing that he’s so optimistic about us potentially being able to conceive #2 on our own?
No. My logical, rational mind can’t go there. I’m not pessimistic. I’m realistic.
I’m still breastfeeding. I haven’t had my menstrual cycle return yet. I’m down one fallopian tube. We needed IVF with ISCI to conceive our son.
I’d love to live in a state of trying without trying, but after infertility and loss, that concept just isn’t viable in my mind. I need to shelve any unrealistic expectations of conceiving on our own.
We had a brief talk about it last night. I think he gets where I stand. At least, I really hope he does. Neither one of us needs to go back to that place right now.
We aren’t trying, yet we clearly aren’t doing anything to prevent it… And we will see where we end up.
No expectations. Blissful ignorance. Simply sex for pleasure.
Let’s leave it at that.