Sharing the details of my sex life during pregnancy would be pretty brief – because there wasn't any. It took a whole year to get my sex life back on track. Here's what happened...
The media ruins it for everyone. Yet again, I’d been tricked by American TV, which depicts pregnant women having full breasts and an incredible sex drive. Alas, my pregnancy wasn’t filled with uncontrollable urges. Nope, it was the complete opposite from the get-go.
Let’s talk about sex – one mum shares all on sex and pregnancy
Let’s start with the positives…
Sex drive aside, I did experience a few benefits when it came to pregnancy. I had the fuller hair and chest, although, with the chest that I naturally had, it didn’t take much for any additional amount to make it fuller. Being flat-chested my whole life, I was overjoyed to finally have breasts. Not tits or mosquito bites; they were womanly breasts.
But that’s where the positives ended. They might have been bigger, but they ached, throbbed and were virtually untouchable. Not to mention the outrageous happenings that were going on to my areolas. A quick flip through any pregnancy book tells you the changes you’ll experience – gums bleed, breasts swell, areolas widen and darken, but they don’t mention by how much. My areolas, well, the only thing I could compare them to would be what I had seen on Nat Geo as a child when they visited tribes. I had tribeswoman breasts. Whatever image that brings to mind, it’s probably accurate. Thankfully, my new growing and darkening body did little to keep my husband at bay.
Sex during pregnancy: the first trimester…
The first trimester isn’t a walk in the park for many. You’re constantly feeling zapped of all energy, a victim of hot flushes and nausea. What they don’t tell you is that in some cases, it lasts the whole day. Brushing my teeth with a slim soft-bristled brush took ages because of the constant gag reflex. Anything larger and firmer that required the same motion was definitely out of the question.
The second trimester: enter the incompetent cervix…
In my second trimester, I was told I had an incompetent cervix. This meant that my cervix, which was supposed to be hard and only soften days before I went into labour, was prematurely softening, and worse, it was already opening. Premature labour could be triggered, bacteria could enter the womb and infect the baby, and it wasn’t something to play around with. Needless to say, if we were trying to keep the baby in, I had to keep my cervix and all the other lady bits that went along with it closed. For the rest of my pregnancy, sex was a definite no-go.
The final month: hello, wet dreams!
Finally, sweet relief was in sight; I had entered the final month of my pregnancy. Bed rest had worked, and the baby was still safe inside me. However, I was now plagued with extremely arousing dreams that happened multiple times a night, almost daily, ending in climax. Experiencing ‘wet dreams’ for the first time as a pregnant 31 year-old wouldn’t have been my choice, but I soldiered on and did so with a smile. What a trooper I was.
And then it was time for baby to arrive
Warning – I’m not going to hold back. When it was time for the actual delivery, firstly my waters didn’t burst, so the doctor had to manually do it. This meant he had to place one hand inside me with another on my belly to gently push until the bag ruptured. Hand, not fingers – and we’re talking wrist deep. This wouldn’t be the last time he reached inside. He did so again towards the end of my labour when baby became stuck.
When things didn’t go to plan during labour…
At one of my last checkups, I was told that the baby’s head was now wider than my pelvis. Babies’ heads are made up of bones that are not fused together yet, so it would be possible for it to still squeeze through, although I had to be prepared for the worst, and of course, the worst happened. After pushing for an eternity, he asked if I would like an assisted birth, meaning forceps. ANYTHING TO GET THIS CHILD OUT OF ME. He opened a packet of what looked like salad spoons, not the dainty ones you eat with, the giant wooden novelty-looking ones you toss the salad with, or, that you find hanging as decor at Italian restaurants.
Up went his hand inside me again to feel around for where the baby’s face was so he could safely insert the forceps without potentially crushing a nose or an eye. I should mention my husband was watching all this giving me a running commentary. “His whole arm is inside you!”. Sex was never going to happen now.
Back to square one: Post-pregnancy sex wasn’t looking any better…
The final count was a year without sex
We had sex again for the first time three months after I gave birth. We had tried previously, but it just never worked. The trauma of labour was a serious mental block. Google, of course, was the go-to, and my husband tried everything: helping more around the house so I wasn’t tired, even giving me a little drink to relax. Everything was working up till foreplay. Straight away, the memory of the doctor reaching in to burst my waters came to mind, and I clammed up – suddenly, everything hurt.
When a problem shared, is a problem halved…
As the universe would have it, I crossed paths with the woman who would reignite my sex life; Nixalina, writer and host of Sex & Singapore City. We went out for dinner and drinks (more drinks than dinner), and I told her about my sexual frustrations. Just being in her presence quite honestly is enough to get anyone’s juices flowing again – man or woman. She suggested, of course, alcohol to relax and even sex toys. Since fingers were too clinical, sex toys could do the job better. I had never used one before and could not see the appeal, quite frankly. But boy, was I wrong.
Enter the vibrator, literally…
A couple of months before, I had a zoom event with other influencer mothers, and we were all gifted a vibrator. My husband couldn’t have been happier. Yet, it still triggered memories of forceps. Granted, this vibrator was a little bigger than a USB. After my dinner with Nixalina, I was well liquored, her sexy empowering vibes had rubbed off on me, and I was feeling confident. I went home with one mission in mind: sex was to be had!
It wasn’t all plain sailing…
We started, and everything was going well; I even managed to block out the fact that along with a body part, a tool, the vibrator was going inside me again. But the result? Nothing. We didn’t manage to have sex; the vibrator did nothing. It was underwhelming, frustrating and to top it off, the husband was kind and understanding about it all. How annoying.
But if at first you don’t succeed…
A week passed, and I YouTubed the particular vibrator I had. It turns out I was using it the wrong way! Apparently, which side was meant to be placed in wasn’t as obvious as I first thought. After telling my husband we had been using it the wrong way, we tried again. We had sex again that night, and, oh, my, god. The water tasted a bit sweeter; the air was a touch fresher; birds sang ever sweetly the day after.
The drought was finally over!
The dry spell was indeed over, and what happened next was me being an advocate for sex toys. LIFE CHANGING! I spoke to so many of my girlfriends and asked about sex unabashedly, how often they were doing it, how long it lasted, did they enjoy it, and would they climax. The answers were shocking, but my solution was the same: try a sex toy of your choice. It opened up so many new feelings for me – and finally ended the drought.
Got a pregnancy sex story of your own? Let us know!
This story was originally written by Jill Lim in 2024 and updated by Amanda Broad in 2024.
