Our desire hasn’t diminished, but I’m content with a cuddly, loving shag these days Ross and I had been dating for four months when I asked if he wanted children. I’d memorised a script, but I was so anxious I was visibly shaking as I asked him. It felt so vulnerable, and what if he said no?
I’d have to end the relationship. That year, I went through three rounds of egg freezing after being told my anti-Müllerian hormone levels were so low I might never be able to have a baby. I met Ross just before starting the first round, but I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want to scare him off.
It also played on my mind that Ross was 28 and I was 36. After Ross reassured me he did want children, he hugged me and said: “This is inappropriate, but I have a boner.” He called it a romance boner. Two months later, he referred to “our kids” in conversation.
Six months after that, we decided to start trying. The fertility doctor told us we were having too much sex. Apparently having sex every other day gives the sperm time to properly develop, but we’d been doing it four or five times a day: once before work, when we got home from work, before dinner and again before bed.
I’d never been with anyone whose sex drive was as high as mine. After we miscarried our first child, sex became less about experimentation and more about comfort. And now we have a 10-month-old daughter, we just don’t have the energy to do it like we used to.
Rather than four times a day, we have sex four times a week, and it’s more vanilla. But our desire hasn’t diminished, and I’m content with a cuddly, loving shag these days. We still hold hands and touch feet while we sleep.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
