Home » Sex. While VERY Pregnant. I Went There. . .Consider Yourself Warned. . .

Sex. While VERY Pregnant. I Went There. . .Consider Yourself Warned. . .

Sooooooooo. . .We’re rapidly approaching due date around here.  And I’m DYING to be done being pregnant.

I don’t particularly enjoy pregnancy and while this one has been pretty great, all things considered, I just want to be able to drink wine and eat blue cheese in my standard-issue fat pants again.

A while ago, I got a stupid idea that this kid would arrive a little sooner than predicted.  I have no idea where I got that notion from, but once I get something in my head, I’m kinda’ hell bent obsessive about it.

So when 37 weeks arrived, I sloughed the crusty skin off my heels, attempted to give my legs and bikini line some attention, thoroughly cleaned the basement and waited for a bunch of disgusting fluids to start gushing from my nether regions right on cue.

Except, there was no gushing.

I’m not even sure there’s been a contraction?  Maybe?  I seem to have a pretty high tolerance for pain so it’s quite possible I might not even realize I’m in labor until the kid lands crying at my feet. . .

Anyway, my desire to evict this kid is now nearly as big as the hemrhoid I got as a push present from Mac a few years back.

This perhaps has made me a bit open to suggestions I would not normally entertain?

It all started innocently enough.  One of my oldest and dearest friends stopped over for a quick visit last weekend.  She gave me a good once-over, told me I looked “incredible” and then said, “Doesn’t look like that baby’s dropped any.  I’m sorry.”

“Get out.” I demanded while jabbing a finger at my massive stomach.

“Over being pregnant?” She laughed.

“Waaaaaayyyyyyy over it.” I mumbled stuffing my face full of kettle corn.  “Except for the eating. . .”

“When were you at the Doctor’s last?” She asked.

“Yesterday.” I mumbled.

“Did you ask her to strip your membranes?”

“What?  What’s that?”  I asked leaning forward.  “I didn’t even bother to have her check my cervix.”

“I think I’ve heard enough already.” Chris interjected.  “This doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“Well, it worked for us with both babies.” Said oldest and dearest friend.  “Except.  It’s not really pleasant AND you have to have sex afterwards.”

Chris moved towards the table and took a seat.  “Really?” he said, clearly fixated on the sex part.

“Um yeah. It took an expensive and supposedly romantic lunch at Petit Louis to convince me but my water broke twelve hours later with our daughter.”  Said friend.  “You know, it might not matter about the membranes.  Maybe just the sex would do it?  Especially with a second pregnancy?”

“Interesting. . .” Chris said leaning back in his chair, nodding his head.

I gave dearest friend a look of SHUT IT BEFORE I KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS.

Who’s side is she on anyway?  I’d rather jam a hot poker under my toenails than have sex in my present condition.

I quickly tried to change the subject.

As desperate as I was for this kid to GET OUT, there was NO WAY.

Friend left.  We took Mac to the playground.

We arrived home and I started to get dinner ready.  Chris ran to the basement and emerged with a bottle of champagne.

“What’s that for?” I asked eyeing him suspiciously.  He’s not a big drinker.  I had NO desire to deal with him if he was planning to polish off a bottle of champagne by himself.

“Do you want me to get you beer instead?” I asked.  “I’ll just walk up to the bar and get a six pack.  I don’t mind.  I don’t think you should open that.  It won’t keep and PLEASE don’t attempt to drink all that yourself tonight.  Please?”

“I thought you might want a little too.” He said.  “Yesterday was our anniversary.  A little won’t hurt anything at this point, right?”

Mr. Straight and Narrow was offering his pregnant wife champagne?  

“Who are you and what did you do with my Husband?” I laughed.

Who cares?  I snatched a champagne flute from the rack and  dusted it off with the hem of my maternity T shirt.  “Pour me some FAST.  Fill the glass.  Before you change your damned mind.”

Ah sweet bubbly magic on my tongue.  How I’ve missed you!  Take it easy, Deni.  Don’t be crass.  At least toast the anniversary first.

We sat down to dinner, said the blessing, clinked our glasses and slurped.

“Sip?” Mac asked curiously.

“Here, have some of Mommy’s water,” I said.  She won’t be needing it.

Except, of course I knew I couldn’t drink too much.  Nor did I want to.  Definitely don’t want to cause any problems for the baby.

“You feel anything?” Chris asked while I was at the sink cleaning up dinner.

“What do you mean?” I asked.  “If you’re checking to see if I still feel completely dead inside, then yes, I still feel that.” I joked.

No. . .YOU know.  Anything?

He slipped his arm around my waist – or the place where my waist normally is – when I’m not the shape of a bloated tick.

I whipped my head around.  He had a big sloppy grin on his face.

Cue the horror music.

He.  Wants.  Sex.

“Listen, Mr. Bubbles, I see what you’re up to here and while I kinda’ appreciate your misguided attempts, I can’t really make any promises about what might transpire later this evening.” I say scrubbing some spinach and pasta off a pot.

“But it could help with labor. . .You want to go into labor right?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I wouldn’t mind going into labor.  Yet, I’m not sure the little jump start you’re suggesting has actually been scientifically proven.” I grumbled back.

We went though our bedtime routines. . .And I waffled. . .

Don’t the Duggars swear by this?  Um, She has like some sort of bionic lady-bits.  There’s no telling how much stuff she can fit down there.  She probably doesn’t even notice if Jim Bob stops by for a little visit!  You, on the other hand, have not birthed 3 litters of children.

Throw your Husband a bone.  Poor guy might not get lucky again until Christmas.  

Who CARES when he gets lucky?  You’re about to give BIRTH.  Remember the first time you gave birth?  Mac’s head was approximately the circumference of a damned dinner plate.  

But he went to all that trouble to open that bottle of champagne.  

Did that sucker have a twist top?  What the hell?

As I was reading Dudley Dog for the 4th time, I glanced over at Chris.  On any other given night, he’d be flat on his back snoring at this point.

But not this night.  Oh no.  He was propped up on his side listening with rapt attention.  Smiling angelically.

This made me slightly angry.

He can’t stay awake any other night while we get Mac ready for bed but if there’s even the smallest chance of SEX, he’s suddenly a night owl?  Grrrrrrr.

I started voicing Dudley in a slightly angry and aggressive tone.

You might actually enjoy it, Deni.  That little bit of champagne did seem to dull the 18 aches and pains you felt all day long.  Loosen up.

I got Mac successfully in his crib and returned to find Chris tucked into the bed, covers pulled to his chin.  He had the same wild, excited look of a kid on Christmas Eve.

And guess who just happened to be the size and shape of Santa?

I rolled my eyes.

“Ok.”  I sighed.

“Really?” He whispered.

“That’s my thought exactly.”

He bolted upright, ripping off his shirt.

“Ok, Romeo, before we do this, let’s establish a couple of rules.” I groaned.  I. Cannot. Believe. I’m. Agreeing. To. This.

“Ohhhhh.  Like a safeword?  You are a naughty girl.”

“No. Not a safeword, you dork.  Things feel a little um squished down there.  I’m not really sure what’s going on so no looking and no sudden movements.  You got it?”

“No looking?”

“That’s right.  And I’d appreciate your efforts to um. . .be quick.”

“Quick?  Aren’t you supposed to enjoy it too?  Isn’t that what’s going to help with the labor?”

“While I appreciate your altruism, I don’t think my enjoyment has much to do with the whole starting labor part.”

“Then what?”

Jesus, this man has an undergraduate minor in biology.  How did he manage that?  

“I think it’s the um swimmers or a chemical, hormone, whatever, err. . .Do you really care to hear the explanation?”


“I didn’t think so.”

“Your maternity underwear are hot.”

“Can you just shut up and hurry already?  Before I change my mind?!”

And. . .


And if ANY of you comment on the benefits of nipple massage, I’m coming for you!  







8 Responses to “Sex. While VERY Pregnant. I Went There. . .Consider Yourself Warned. . .”

  1. Dani Ryan says:

    What a waste of your time!

    The funny thing is, I was dying for sex the whole time I was pregnant, but my husband REFUSED. Something about not wanting to hit our daughter. Men really do like to flatter themselves, don’t they?

    In case it happens, like, THIS WEEKEND, I wanted to wish you all the best! Let us know how it goes!

    Dani Ryan recently posted…10 reasons mom-and-me classes suckMy Profile

    • admin says:

      A waste of my ENERGY too! I’ll definitely keep you posted. Although, I’m not excited to go into labor today. Not sure I have time for a shower. hahaha!

  2. Georgina says:

    Ah ha ha ha ha. You just cracked me up all day long. Especially the who looks like Santa line.

  3. Rick says:

    Oh my Lord, I laughed till my eyes were blurred with tears! Being a man, I can remember my wife and I attempting to make love while she was very much pregnant. But in this case it was quite the opposite. She wanted to, and I thought I was going to poke the kids eye out or something. Enough said!!!!!

    • admin says:

      It was pretty comical. The entire situation was better earlier in the pregnancy. At this point, possibly poking the kid in the eye isn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility. hahaha! Thanks for reading!

  4. Hahaha. My first born was delivered 3 weeks after his due date, by which time I was an absolute whale! We tried everything- fresh pineapple, raspberry leaf tea, hot curries and yep… my husband got pretty lucky those last few weeks, but nothing worked- in the end I was induced. Best of luck for the big event. x
    Daisy Broomfield recently posted…That’s all folks!My Profile

    • admin says:

      Thanks! Still hanging in there! All I can say is thank goodness I still feel pretty good. At least I’m not in physical agony. That’s a huge plus. The Doc said as long as we are healthy, he’ll let me go to 41 weeks. I was induced on due date with my first because they were concerned about my blood pressure. I didn’t particularly care for the induction – it took a LONG time and wasn’t a great experience (even for birth – ha!) so I’m hoping to avoid induction this time, if possible. Although baby’s health is most important. XOXO