Keeping the fire burning

My husband, Laurence, sits up in bed, excitedly pointing to the news graphic. “Jeez! The average married couple has sex three times per week. Man, am I deprived.”

I suppress a groan, hoping I won’t have to make up for lost time. Before baby Maxwell was born, I loved sex. But caring for a colicky two-month-old, who wakes screaming three times per night, exhausts me. I can’t remember how an uninterrupted night of sleep feels anymore but I bet I’d enjoy it. When I finally get Maxwell back to sleep, I fall into bed exhausted. Of course by that time, sex is the least of my priorities.

Laurence has a reversed priority list. He finds me less sexy since I had Maxwell, even though I wear lingeries and those see-through night wears. He flashes me a hopeful look and gives me the body hug that signals he’s in the mood. All I want is sleep but we haven’t made love for a while so I agree. Before we can even get through a hug, Maxwell’s ear-piercing shriek jars us.

Whew! It will take another half-hour to resettle him and by then Lawrence will be fast asleep. My paediatrician tells me colic usually resolves itself by three months. I look forward to craving something besides a quick shut eye. Nine months later, my sex life improves, but not much. When we make love, I enjoy it but starting the process seems like too much effort for me so unless Lawrence does, I’m usually just happy to fall asleep.

Maxwell suffers from repeated ear infections and still doesn’t sleep well and my wailing night-owl has morphed into an 11-month-old destruction machine. Nothing is safe around him. Maxwell throws dishcloths, socks or tupperware over his shoulder until drawers are empty. He sneaks into my library and empties bookshelves, tearing some books along the way. I chase after him all day, cleaning up trails of towels, books and unrolled toilet paper. My cat and dog flee in terror from Tornado Max.

Lawrence has become a sex-starved maniac. It turns him on if I sneeze. He finds me a goddess in a ponytail and baggy sweats. He sighs when I rebuff his advances, and sighs again when I give in. “I feel like I always have to talk you into this. Do you think you’ll initiate lovemaking ever again?” he keeps asking me.

“Sure honey,” I lie, hoping the rumour that my sex drive will return when I’m less exhausted is true. Lawrence and I make love a couple of times a week. I catch myself hoping he’ll hurry through it one night and feel miserable for thinking like this, seriously starting to worry.
I’m only 30 and supposed to have a lifetime ahead of me for making love. I want to feel the volcanic excitement I used to feel when we were dating and even after we got married. Will our sex life ever return to normal? I wonder miserably.

My friend, Kate, calls to announce she’s six weeks pregnant with her first child. Kate and I plan a lunch with two other friends to celebrate her news. A week later, the four of us meet at a restaurant in town, settle into our seats and make our orders. I take a deep breath, eager to find out from my close friends if my strained sex life is normal. “Little Maxwell has become a tornado. I’m forever exhausted at night and Lawrence constantly wants to make love, driving me insane. Do you guys enjoy sex after having kids?” I ask earnestly.

“No way! I’d rather sleep,” cries chubby Kerry. She dips a garlic breadstick in bleu cheese dressing and takes a bite. “Or eat.” (Her name has been changed so her husband doesn’t kill me.) Maryanne laughs. She mothers three children under age seven, with the dark under-eye circles and shaggy ponytail to prove it. “Sex? Sounds familiar but I’m too tired to remember what it means anymore. Everyone I know with small children feels the same way.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me,” I sigh. Surely I’ll feel differently someday. Maybe when Maxwell goes to school. “What are the three of you talking about?” cries Kate. “James and I get cosy almost every night. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The rest of us flash her a superior look. Maryanne says, “We’ll give you time to have your baby and then report back to us in six months.” Maryanne twirls the end of her ponytail.

“There’s hope, though. My friend, Jennifer, wrapped herself in Saran Wrap like in “Fried Green Tomatoes” and called her husband home early from work the day her 3-year-old entered pre-school. She said her sex drive suddenly came back from nowhere and hit her like a brick.” Kate says, “That wouldn’t work for me. My cellulite wrapped in plastic would surely traumatise my hubby.”

I envision the extra six pounds I gained during pregnancy which I haven’t yet shed. “I’d have to try something more opaque.” It feels good to laugh about ‘my issue’ with my friends because I don’t feel so alone anymore. Shortly after Maxwell’s first birthday, a doctor recommended putting tubes in his ears. He said with these, he would sleep through the night and he does and so do I.

I’m reading in bed a month after my meeting with the girls when Lawrence enters the bedroom. He removes his shirt and throws it towards the laundry basket. Hummm ... he looks good standing there bare-chested in his jeans. His shoulders were always broad but his stomach is flat from running with Maxwell in the baby-jogger. I welcome an almost forgotten surge of desire as he removes his jeans and slips into bed. I turn to him. “Honey that striptease really turned me on.”

He stares at me. “What?”
“Oh, really?”
“Of course. Guess I was just too tired to notice.” I grin. “I’m wide awake now…..|”
“Ask and you shall receive.” He looks relieved before embracing me.
The reality is that after a man and woman promise “I do,” their unique journey as a married couple begins without an instruction manual.

And if and when children come into the family’s picture, the marriage partnership, no doubt, becomes even more interesting and complicated. ‘As my husband and I mark each wedding anniversary, I feel a sense of accomplishment that we’ve shared another year together’, says my friend Esther. Each challenge we face together and every argument we have – or avoid – brings us closer together. Experience is a good teacher.