R and I have been together for about seven years. I have already alluded to the fact that we have never had sex very often (we once had a 7 month dry spell). This has been the cause of our most major arguments because I, not unlike many, view sex as the ultimate act of love and intimacy that separates a romantic relationship from a best friend. Needless to say, I have always had some insecurities about this, and any effort to talk about it openly with R has never led to a very happy evening for either of us.
I have done my homework… read “The Sex Starved Wife” by Michele Weiner Davis, visited a therapist (who told me after five minutes of meeting that we were both gay and should break up…?!?), talked in strictest confidence to my best friend, and visited countless websites. Though none of these things have miraculously changed my sex life, they have helped me realize that I can feel fulfilled and intimate in spite of the lack of actual intercourse. It took me a while to get here, but I made it.
Enter: the plan to get pregnant. Suddenly, this taboo, leads-to-a-fight-every-time topic is something we HAVE to be open about, and… <<gasp>>… something we actually have to DO…with some degree of consistency! Need I wonder why my anxiety (and his, too, I’m sure) has spiked this week? Naturally, I look for subtle (but clear) ways to give him the info. he needs without using too much jargon. He knows this is the week and he is mentally prepared. We both want to start a family and this is the month to start trying. OK, phew; we are on the same page.
So when the alarm clock rings at 5 am this morning, and he rolls over for a morning wake up call, I AM BUBBLING OVER WITH EXCITEMENT. …and passion, and hope, and love, and pleasure!!! And folks, we have liftoff… !!!!!!!!!!!!!
…but ten minutes later I am telling him, “That’s ok; don’t worry… we can try again later.” Liftoff, but no landing.