My Husband & I Are Trying For A Baby And Now Sex Feels Like A Chore — Help!

Sex (Re-) Education is a sex and relationships advice column for women in their late 30s, 40s, and beyond. Got a question for Alyssa? Fill out this form.

Dear Alyssa,

I'm 35 and trying to get pregnant with my husband. It’s been about five months of trying with no luck. Each month I get my period, the more anxious I am about everything. Generally, I’m scared, disappointed and stressed over the whole thing.

Which means I’m not that fun to be around. Getting pregnant is all I can think about, and while my husband is supportive and trying his best, it’s just not the same for him. At a time when we should be banding together, our marriage feels strained. And it’s making sex — which has always been really hot — feel like a chore. Sometimes my husband can’t even come because the pressure just throws him off. When that happens, I’m totally derailed, and I go psycho.

Hoping you can advise me on how to make the sex in my marriage better during this hard time.

Love,

Ovulating in Ohio

Dear O,

My friend, I’ve been there.

When you’re trying to get pregnant, sex can be soul-crushing. It's clinical and transactional and often entirely devoid of passion. It’s impossible to be sexy and upbeat when there’s a tremor of frustration and disappointment and nervousness in literally everything you do. Because how can there not be? The stakes are high. No. The stakes are really f*cking high! Which is also to say, you are not psycho. Or, maybe you are psycho. But fertility makes everyone psycho! You want this so bad. You have no control over anything. You. Are. Struggling.

And no one gets it!

Well, I get it. And I’m sure a lot of your girlfriends get it. My dear friend, Amy Klein, author of The Trying Game, gets it. Andrea Syrtash at Pregnantish definitely gets it. So that’s rule number one: surround yourself with people who get it. Personally, I found a lot of the online support groups to be too depressing, but those fertility Facebook groups and subreddits do give us a safe place to obsess, judgment-free, and for that, they’re definitely a force for good.

You say your husband is trying his best. Is he though? I’m not trying to stir the matcha latte here, but in my experience, most men aren’t as sensitive as they should be when dealing with fertility issues. They don’t have the tools. They’re inherently self-involved. We still love them, but, yeah.

So it might help to script things out for him. For example, in a calm moment when you’re enjoying life over fish tacos and spicy margaritas, try this: “Babe, if I get my period again this month, it would mean so much to me if you said, ‘Come here. Let me hold you.’ And then, if you could hold me really tight, for, like, a long time. I know that sounds cheesy. And maybe disingenuous. Or performative. But… can you just try it?’”

In my experience, most men aren’t as sensitive as they should be when dealing with fertility issues.

As for managing the sex, it sounds like your sexual chemistry is naturally on fire, and that gives me a lot to work with. What if you took the chore aspect of the obligatory sex and made it, well, kinky? I mean, rope-play is definitely having a moment. What if it was like, “How ‘bout you tie me up and knock me up...” Would that turn you on?

If you’re not in the mood for any of that — I don’t blame you if you’re not — and simply need to ensure that your husband understands the assignment and ejaculates, remember that this is all about tone. So, fake it. In this specific case, it’s a necessary evil. A necessary cringe. Be playful. Be slutty. Be “into it.” It’s not going to be rockstar sex, and definitely not romantic sex, but we do need it to be orgasmic sex, at least.

Also: about orgasms! You need them, too. I had my first child at 38, via an anonymous sperm donor. After the nurse finished the IUI (aka the turkey baster), my mom — who was my person throughout this journey — urgently asked me if I had a vibrator in my bag. “What? NO!” I gasped in shock. My mother believed an old wives’ tale that having an orgasm would help get the juices flowing, and thus, send a clear message to the brain that a baby was being made. On the record, her hypothesis was total bullsh*t. But for what it’s worth, I did take care of myself later (when I was tucked inside my apartment and alone) and I did get pregnant that day. Again, pure nonsense, but some magical thinking — and free stress relief — never hurts during these days.

I’ll couple that with this: Stress is the enemy of all good things, including getting pregnant. Can you guys book a vacation? I just got back from the most chic and relaxing hotel called Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni on Lake Como, in case you need a rec from a raging travel snob who also (successfully) moved mountains to get pregnant, not once but TWICE! Or, I’ll take it down a few notches: Can you binge a mutually-entertaining show together? Do not sleep on Below Deck Down Under, Season 2. Lastly, would a few sessions of couples therapy be possible? It’s never a bad idea.

Most importantly, O, I need you to continue to push through. Because I promise you’re going to be OK. Many of my friends have dealt with fertility issues and I can honestly say, all of them are now mothers. Every single one. Let that sink in. We all found a way. Half of us went through IVF, several of us survived miscarriages and started over, some of us used sperm donors, egg donors, surrogates, or adoption — and all of us are now happy, proud, overtired and undersexed moms who would not have it any other way.

I look so forward to welcoming you to the party.

Love,

Alyssa