Childbirth, Creative Release, And C*mming

TW: Artfully explicit. 

Before I begin, you may be wondering why I am choosing to publish something so vulnerable and revealing on a publicly accessible platform. So enters my three-pronged answer to your question:

1. Women’s sexuality is important and, historically, it has been swept under the rug. While men’s pleasure is pretty much always guaranteed, women’s pleasure is…not (only 18.4% of women reported orgasming from vaginal sex alone as of February 2025!). Sharing experiences is how we break the stigma that sexuality is inherently shameful and maybe even learn from one another. 
2. This blog is my safe and snuggly little piece of the Internet where I practice writing — my favorite pastime — about things that I care about. 
3. I don’t give a fuck. And, to be honest, you shouldn’t, either. 

When I was newly postpartum, I was terrified that sex after childbirth would always feel weird, uncomfortable, or even painful after all that my body had been through. 

And, for a while, it did. 

So, I focused on other things. Namely, creative hobbies like writing. And I found that, similar to childbirth, the art just sort of flopped right out of me. Except it still hasn’t stopped. 

And it makes sense, really. My mindset is that I’ve already created the most important thing I’ll ever create by having my daughter, so why not just create all the other stuff I feel like creating, too? While the iron is hot. 

I also have a new muse in my daughter. I look at her and feel endlessly inspired to write about things that no one else probably cares about because there’s a chance that, one day, she might. And that’s all that really matters to me now. Not the excessive money and fame that naturally accompany casual writing. So hold on to that $100 bill. 

Releasing all the emotions and stories and angels and demons that I need to release by writing, in conjunction with childbirth, has also vastly improved my sex life. 

Letting my fiancé read my work is like letting him see a whole new, scintillating part of me that I’ve never let anyone see before (except for my writing critique group, and that can be a little awkward, I will admit). I can tell when he really likes something, because he’ll sort of just smile to himself as he reads, and that feels like victory. 

It’s letting someone see me in a totally different and vulnerable light. It’s true intimacy.

Without going into too much detail, sex feels better for me eight months after childbirth than it ever did before. By a landslide.

So, if you’re scared of that, don’t be. Try to give it time. And maybe get creative, too. Every body and experience is different, but perhaps this could give someone hope, and add to the vast and colorful range of experiences that comprise women’s sexuality. 

Mine surprised me, and perhaps yours will, too.