Guest Post: Hiding Away (or, how to feel like an elderly man on Viagra & ecstasy while going on a “hot, naked, horny women tour” and maintaining celibacy vows . . . without doing drugs or dealing with man bits)

Simply? I cannot think of a more appropriate guest post for this blog 😉 Please, send your love over to Mother’s Hideaway.

Pregnancy can make you crazier than an old man on ecstasy. A complicated pregnancy can make you crazier than an old man on Viagra and ecstasy.

My pregnancy made me crazier than an old man on Viagra on ecstasy in a Las Vegas night club. Except unlike the old man…when I’m pregnant…I can’t get no satisfaction.

You see, I have complicated pregnancies. I’m a high risk pregnancy to start off with because I have lupus, but beyond that my pregnancies aren’t your run of the mill go with the flow look at her glow type of deals. No, my pregnancies are difficult and there is no such thing as an easy trimester. Instead I begin having contractions at 18 weeks, numerous hospital visits to monitor said contractions, and a prescription for bed rest/take it easy…oh and no sex. That is followed quickly by continuing contractions that lead to preterm labor in the beginning of the third trimester, bed rest, contractions five to ten minutes apart all.the.time. for the rest of my pregnancy (that lasted eight weeks with my second and five weeks with my first), and oh yeah, you guessed it….no sex.

Let me rephrase that…we could have sex, but I couldn’t have any sort of sheet gripping, toe curling, sweat making type of orgasm. In fact, I couldn’t even tip toe on the line of orgasm or it could make my contractions be productive and I’ll be honest with you, if it ain’t happenin’ for me…it ain’t happenin’ for you either, honey. So…no sex for me.

Now let’s transition to why that’s a problem beyond the “What??? You couldn’t have sex with all of those raunchy wanna get down and get dirty pregnancy hormones flowing through your body???” No…that wasn’t the main problem, although, I’ll admit that was more than annoying. The problem was a TV show in which I fawned (along with many women) over the main character.

Mad Men’s own Don Draper.

Don Draper

*insert screaming girls passing out and/or ripping their shirts off just to get his autograph*

During my pregnancy my husband and I had began watching the first three seasons of Mad Men and I had taken a liking to the suave Mr. Don Draper. He was aloof, dominant, strong while weak, and very very sexy. So sexy, in fact, that he began to creep up into my dreams.

Sex dreams. Pregnancy sex dreams which are like an old man on Viagra and ecstasy in a Las Vegas night club. Oh yes, and what happens there, stays there…except the Grand Finale.

Now let’s do the math here, people.

Pregnancy sex dream + Pregnant woman that’s not supposed to orgasm = BIG FRICKIN TEASE.

One night, Don (and yes, we are on a first name basis) and I were getting hot and heavy. Somehow it was so passionate and so essential to our very existence that we both didn’t know what we were doing. He was married (but in the process of a divorce), I was married and about to have a baby (although my body was totally bangable in my dream). We fell from the couch as he kissed me on the neck. We broke some lamps as he peeled off my clothing. We both whispered and moaned that we weren’t supposed to do this, but were already in too deep to stop.

He whispered sweet and dirty nothings into my ear. I gasped and groaned in response.

It was the best sex I never had.

Until I said “We can’t do this. It’s going to make me contract. Oh my God. *gasp* No, no…we
can’t do this.”

“It’s ok,” he whispered as his tongue traced down my flat, toned torso. He came up to kiss me.

“We can’t do this. I can’t have contractions. I can’t…oh my God! *groan* We can’t…do…”

And my eyes opened wide. Silence surrounded me. My husband’s heavy breathing the only sound that cut through the dark.

What the hell? I just ruined my own sex dream? I thought.

And with that, I was a bitter bitter pregnant woman.

Yes, my loves, my pregnancy is like an old man on Viagra on ecstasy in a Las Vegas night club…that never gets laid.

That is….until the sequel sex dream that climaxed a year later.

4 comments

  1. When I was eight months pregnant with my daughter, my husband and I went to Italy.

    I know.

    We had OBGYN approval, but I was not allowed to take any sort of romance to…completion.

    I could of course service my husband (don’t think he wasn’t grinning when he heard that bit of news) but I had to abstain.

    Seriously.

    Eight days in one of the world’s more romantic countries and I couldn’t get any.

    Yeah. I had dreams.

    Oh yeah.

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