When I was seven months pregnant with my daughter, I experienced what one can only refer to as sheer panic. I had just finished some writing when I stood up at my desk and felt a rush of liquid between my legs. "Oh, no... Noooo!" I freaked out. Within an hour I had phoned my husband, all but dropped my son at my mom's doorstep and found myself situated in the labor and delivery ward, tubes snaking my body monitors suctioned to my middle.
As I lay there in the hospital bed, unsuccessfully banishing dark thoughts from my head through snippets of Judge Judyplaying on the overhead television (and contemplating buying one of those remote controlled beds for my own - they are damn comfortable) I was reminded how quickly our lives can change. How one moment you think you're going to have a healthy new baby, and another you are delivering a child 10 weeks early.
After an excruciating hour of stillness (no, yoga is not for me) a doctor in a white coat entered. His face was somber. His eyes unwavering. I just knew he was going to be the bearer of bad tidings.
Doctor: "Well, everything looks normal. You're not in labor. You're not having a baby. The fetus is not under distress. In fact, she has been moving around so much we've had a heck of a locating her with the monitor."
Me: "Oh, thank God!" (Then) But what was that rush of liquid I felt this morning?"
Doctor: (Deep breath) "Sperm."
Yeah, that wasn't one of my prouder moments.
Now before any of you judge me for being so stupid, let me remind you that I had a huge belly at that point. I could barely see my shoes let alone my vagina. Also, I had a premature son one year earlier. And, mixed with what I will only refer to as pregnancy juices, sperm did not look like regular sperm. And so, I jumped the gun. After jumping my husband eight hours earlier.
There's an interesting myth about pregnancy sex - that we women are too tired to have it. I have found, not just with myself, but many of my friends, that pregnant sex is often the best kind. A woman feels ripe. All the hormones swirling around give her extra sensation. I personally attribute it to the nesting instinct. Everything needs its place - the cute little rocking chair, the blanket, the teddy bear, even my husband's penis. "Ahhhh, I have the perfect spot for this right here."
Tell me, readers, what are your thoughts on sex? Did your libido rise when your waist line shrunk?
Posted by Andrea Frazer
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