Last week, just before I woke up, I had a racy dream. It was the kind that – if I hadn’t had to get up for work – I would have coaxed Buddy out of sleep for some frisky cuddling and maybe a little somethin’ somethin’. Instead, my first thought was “ha, like that would happen.” By the time I got out of bed, I was near tears and stayed that way all day. You see, there’s just not a lot of sex going on in our house lately, and it’s been almost as emotionally difficult for me as the IF stuff has.
To be honest, we haven’t always been super active in the bedroom, even as newlyweds. We were always a twice a week couple, maybe more in the very early days. Sunday mornings especially used to be guaranteed to start off with some loving. But when it came to ovulation and my fertile week, we always got the job done with sex every other day or even every day. There was only one cycle I can think of where I counted our chances as zero because of bad timing. Still, outside my fertile week, our sex life was more about quality than quantity.
And then, we were given our MFI diagnosis. Since then, much has changed. We’ve gone the length of an entire “textbook” cycle without a single act of intimacy… on two occasions. Buddy isn’t interested in anything. He has no urges and no desires. I don’t know if it’s the blow to the ego or the suspected low testosterone (he’s supposed to schedule an appointment for testing by Friday) that’s driving it, or both, but it’s got me feeling downright undesired.
It’s a rough situation to be in. I love my husband more than anyone in the world, and wouldn’t want to not be having sex with anyone else. His mental and emotional well-being is of the utmost importance to me. I can only imagine how much the MFI diagnosis stung for him, and I’d do anything in my power to make that not hurt. That said, I still have urges, and I miss my sex life. I miss eye contact lasting a little longer, a kiss being a little deeper. I miss everything about seduction and foreplay and the act itself. I miss pleasing him and being pleased. I miss my Sunday morning sex. I miss my lover.
I know it could be easy for people to say “maybe something’s wrong in your marriage that you’re not owning up to.” It’s not the case. Nothing else is different. I still get many kisses and hugs each day. He still asks and listens about my day and praises my cooking. He helps with the dogs and cleans my car weekly. On the surface, life is unchanged. But behind the bedroom door, there’s a black hole of intimacy. He acknowledges it and feels awful about it. The rejection has been the most difficult thing. I’ve tried all I can think of to get things going, and the lack of interest is really hard. I try very hard not to blame him because I know he doesn’t want it to be this way, but sometimes it’s all I can do to not want to shout, “just suck it up and let’s do this!” It’s sometimes hard not to withhold non-sexual affection and cop an attitude when I feel my intimate needs aren’t being met, but that would be hurtful and my intention is never to hurt my husband.
We’re 4 weeks from our second anniversary, and this year has certainly been harder than the first. IF has taken away a lot of the bliss that was supposed to come with that relatively easy second year (our first year was amazing, BTW, but if it was supposed to be the hardest, this one should have been like walking on a cloud). I didn’t imagine a year ago that I’d be feeling so lonely, on top of everything else. I never expected that rather than engaging in morning sex, I’d be preoccupied with mourning sex.