Sex after birth

I lasted only a few days before I couldn’t stand the curiosity anymore. I took a mirror and angled it down to my vagina. Oh. My. Fucking. God. That was certainly never usable again. I had an episiotomy. I could see stitches. It looked like there were several incisions (I later learned there were not, it was just such a huge mess that it seemed like someone had taken a hacksaw to it). It was covered in blood. No matter how much I sprayed that damn peri bottle at it. I couldn’t even tell where the opening was. Sex? Are you crazy?

But it wasn’t just the state of my vagina that made the 4-6 weeks recommendation laughable. I had absolutely no desire to have sex. I was completely stunned by life. I hadn’t had time to absorb my new role as a mom. Before Jack I couldn’t relax enough to have sex if there was a dirty dish in the sink. Now my life was turned upside down. My very identity was in question. I did not suffer from Postpartum Depression, but I had some dark moments. I couldn’t figure out how shitting and showering fit into my life anymore much less an intimate moment alone with my husband.