Feminist Advice Friday: “Postpartum sex is a disaster. What should I do?”
A reader asks…
I had a baby six months ago, and it’s been rough. Breastfeeding has wrecked my libido, and I tore during birth, so everything is sore. Sex hurts. My husband wants to start having sex again. He hasn’t been forceful or pushy, but probably one step short of that. I feel pressured, and I think he knows that. I can also feel more and more household duties falling to me, though things aren’t nearly as bad for me as a lot of your readers seem to have it.
I know that I owe him a good effort. I know that I should try more. But I hate the idea of sex right now because it’s so painful. I want to feel close to him again, want to feel like I’m more than just a mom, but right now it feels impossible. What should I do?
My answer…
Your comment that you know you “owe” your husband a better effort speaks volumes.
Isn’t it interesting how much time our cultural institutions spend talking about what women owe to men? Women historically and statistically have always given more to men than they get in return. Marriage is better for men than women; parenting demands more of women than men; everything women do is historically undervalued and under-compensated. And yet, the sex that spends the most time worrying about what they owe others is the sex that’s already giving so much.
Imagine any other scenario in which people worried about how much they should pay for the privilege of sacrifice. Because that’s what this notion of women owing men in marriage is—payment for something that is already taking a helluva lot from women.
Let’s talk about what’s really happened here: you sacrificed your body for 9 months—exposing yourself to the myriad indignities and oppressions of pregnancy—to grow your husband’s child. You went through labor and suffered injuries as a result. You fed your child with your body. You have given up so much to give your husband a child—far more than he possibly could sacrifice, because that’s the biological reality of procreation.
And you owe him?
Friend, that’s a hell no. The debt goes the other way.
I know it’s just a sentence. I know that’s just the word you chose. But words mean things, and this word choice is testament to the harmful cultural norms surrounding pregnancy and parenthood. We’ve collectively convinced ourselves that the immense suffering associated with becoming a parent is somehow a privilege, and that the person who goes through it owes something to the person who does not.
What utter nonsense.
After all you have been through, equity demands that He. Owes. You. He is the one who should be thinking about how to make this easier and less burdensome for you. He is the one who should be worried about your psychical well-being.
Some things he can and should be doing include:
Doing everything in his power to ensure you get a good night’s sleep.
Doing his fair share of household labor. If you both work, that’s going to be 50%. And really, it should probably be a lot more since you’re breastfeeding and recovering from giving birth. If he works outside the home and you don’t, that’s going to mean 50% of the work that happens when he’s home.
Supporting your sexual pleasure. Penetration is not the only way to have sex. If he’s not doing everything he can to ensure your sexual pleasure—not as a passing 5-minute pursuit, but as an end in itself—then he has no right to expect you’ll want sex, let alone enjoy it.
Honoring the immense sacrifices you have made to bring your child into the world. In what ways is he emotionally and physically supporting your recovery?
You do not owe anyone sex, regardless of how they treat you. But you especially do not owe someone sex if you don’t want to have it and they’re not pulling their household weight. Listen to your body. Do not rush into something you don’t actually want because you feel you owe a man who, by your own admission, is pressuring you to do something painful and foisting housework on you at one of the most vulnerable times of your life.
What about when you’re ready to return to sex? In other wealthy countries, pelvic floor PT is the standard of care for childbirth recovery. That’s tragically not the case in the US. But if you can, please consider pelvic floor PT. It is an incredible gift to give yourself, and can help reverse many of the issues you report.
I talked to Elizabeth Kemper of Kemper Pelvic Physiotherapy (link in the comments), and here’s what she said about painful sex after birth:
"Pain during sex (aka "dyspareunia") after having a baby is relatively common, although it should not be considered inevitable. Why does it happen? Causes can include musculoskeletal problems, tearing or episiotomy during delivery, hormonal changes and/or reduced lubrication.
The good news is much can be done about it - and gritting your teeth to wait it out is not good advice and can often make the problem worse.
Pelvic physical therapy can be helpful in several ways. We help to identify the specific cause(s). Then we teach you about skin care and vaginal health, address scarring and adhesions, instruct in safe exercise progression and reduce any of the associated tension patterns that develop in the hips, pelvis and low back areas. Proper return to exercise and other activities also helps reduce pain with penetration. By improving the support from structures around the pelvis we can help reduce the tension in the pelvis."
Some other things to consider:
In a sexist society, many doctors do not take women’s pleasure seriously. If your doctor is one of them, as evidenced by a failure to help you with your pain, demand better. See someone else.
In the postpartum period, you tend to produce less natural lubrication. Load up on lube, and consider a longer term vaginal moisturizer.
Take care of your needs. Self-care is not showering, cleaning, and grocery shopping. It’s not planning or making lists or cleaning. It’s doing things that truly improve your well-being. If your husband is not doing everything he can to support your self-care, then he needs to step up before he can even consider asking for sex.
You want to feel like more than “just a mom.” Your husband should want this too, because your well-being and sexuality depend on it. Tell him what you need to achieve that goal. Time together to process your birth? Independent time away from the baby? A good night’s sleep? You deserve all of these things, and more.
Your husband has the power to make your postpartum recovery much better and easier. If he’s not doing that, it is a choice. Make your own choices with that knowledge.