There's a frowny face in my pink doctor's-appointment notebook under the date of my most recent visit. The baby's great, fine, she's swimming around like a champ and her heart is beating like a champ and her tests are all coming back groovy-schmoovy. And I'm doing great too, in much better shape than my first pregnancy: blood pressure lower, weight more steady, mood and energy better.
The problem is this: I have one more month of orgasms, and then - pelvic rest. Pelvic. Rest. Do you know what that means? It sounds like someone settling into one of those drawer-beds that Japanese businessmen sleep in and sliding into a nice vagina-nap. What it really means is - no sex.
I have a perverse pride in the fact that I've never gone more than a few weeks without sex. Post-Penelope was the first time I went eight weeks, and I barely made it before diving (okay, wading) (okay, gingerly sticking a toe in the water and sorta paddling) back into the pool. Before her birth, I was so afraidRead More »from Banned from having sex while pregnant!