I’ve never been lucky enough to conceive a child naturally. I have tried. Oh, I have tried. I have done everything in my power to make sex with my husband “successful” in babymaking. I have tried for 24+ months, every single month, to conceive. I have tried having sex only around ovulation. I’ve tried having sex every single day from period end to period beginning. I have tried having sex with and without lube. I have tried positions and supplements and lying still with my legs in the air afterwards. None of these things brought the sperm and the egg together to holy matrimony in my uterus.
Scheduling sex with my husband made sex unsexy.
But seeing negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test wasn’t the only disappointment. Trying for so long to conceive, and in such prescribed ways, made us lose our intimacy with each other. And it took a while along my infertility journey for us to learn that there can be other ways to preserve intimacy even when sex takes on new dimensions.
One of the first things I didn’t know that I didn’t know about fertility treatments was the way they impact intimacy. For some fertility procedures like timed intercourse, medicated cycles, and IUI, sex is scheduled, and even mandatory. It’s really an interesting dynamic when someone besides you and your partner tells you that you need to be intimate between this time and this time on this day.
Scheduling sex with my husband made sex unsexy. It made it unfun. It made it difficult to get in the mood, difficult for me to achieve orgasm, and difficult for us to truly connect. By the time we were “in the trenches” of trying to conceive, sex was just a vehicle to get us from point A to point B. It wasn’t something either of us desired anymore, because we were coming at it from such an intense need to get pregnant, and such repetitive disappointment when that failed.
It took a toll on our relationship, to be honest. Neither of us were seeking outside pleasure, but we weren’t feeling connected inside either. We felt lonely in ways that we struggled to describe, individually and together. From the time we started fertility treatments until well into my pregnancy, my sex life was not at all what it once was, or even anything like what I wanted it to be. Sex for pleasure got lost, sex was merely for purpose, and I felt so disheartened by that.
At the other end of the spectrum, there are fertility procedures like IVF in which intercourse is basically prohibited for a period of time, ranging from a few weeks to a few months based on your specific protocol and doctors’ recommendations. It makes sense. Sex can impact a lot of things, including a very expensive, very precisely timed IVF cycle, and nobody would want to disrupt that.
From the time we started fertility treatments until well into my pregnancy, my sex life was not at all what it once was, or even anything like what I wanted it to be.
But what does that mean for couples going through fertility treatments?
It means that intimacy is required to take on a new definition during the season of infertility.
Intimacy may no longer (or not regularly) mean intercourse. Instead, intimacy may instead look like a passionate makeout session, reminiscent of high school romance, with a little R-rated hand movements along the way.
Intimacy may feel like naked snuggling, skin-to-skin time, listening to each other’s heartbeats as you imagine growing one inside of you.
Intimacy may mean long and engaging conversations, sharing your innermost thoughts and fears with each other.
Connection through sex is important for many relationships, but so is the overwhelming desire to have a baby. So balancing those feelings means finding middle ground. Redefining intimacy. Reestablishing vulnerability.
For my husband and me, it took a little while to figure out what was going to help and what felt silly or like a waste of time. We tried, and used, all of the suggestions above. We went back to making out, really seriously using just our tongues and our hands to please each other. We spent a lot of time snuggling, and talking, and wondering what it would be like when those days were behind us. We missed each other.
But going on this journey allowed us to give ourselves something to be excited about—and I’d recommend adopting that perspective for anyone going through this. Once you’re feeling comfortable and confident in your pregnancy, or once your baby is in your arms, have a really special date with your partner. Maybe it’s a re-creation of your first time together, soft and romantic and gentle. Or, maybe it’s hot and heavy and reckless and steamy. Whatever it is that the two of you together can fantasize about and plan and look forward to—I highly recommend doing so.
We did return to having sex, and it was really wonderful, but we also brought each other pleasure and joy in the ways we’d learned in the interim: making out, naked snuggling, and long and intense conversations.
After my first season of infertility ended with IVF success and the birth of my daughter, my husband and I were anxious to really reconnect. The ways in which we were intimate during treatments and pregnancy were so different than the ways we had been before, early on in our relationship. We missed some of that, and also we were grateful for the things we learned about each other in the time that we were forced to be creative. To be honest, postpartum intimacy for me was so good because we were connected in new ways. We did return to having sex, and it was really wonderful, but we also brought each other pleasure and joy in the ways we’d learned in the interim: making out, naked snuggling, and long and intense conversations.
If you’re struggling to reconnect with your partner after infertility, communicate openly and honestly what you need, what you’d like, and what you’re not comfortable with. Work together to find space where you both feel connected, appreciated, and seen.
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