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No sex, please. We're infertile.

So when you're trying to have a baby you have sex all the time, right? It may be joyless, mechanical, and obligatory, but at least it's frequent, right?

I haven't had sex in two months.

The last time was a few days before egg retrieval. My abdomen felt swollen and fragile and I wasn't especially interested at first, but somehow it seemed like the thing to do. And it actually was; it was gentle, friendly, and sweet, a good way to be nice to my body when I wasn't treating it particularly kindly otherwise.

After transfer, I was instructed to observe pelvic rest (no penetration, no orgasm) until after the pregnancy test. Foolishly, we didn't seize the opportunity immediately once we had a positive. And only a couple of days later we learned that the pregnancy wasn't viable — a situation not exactly conducive to moonlight and roses.

So then I was going to miscarry. And then I didn't. And then there was the ectopic. And now I'm benched again until my hCG bottoms out.

The funny thing is, I don't miss the reality of it. My poor battered pelvis has been through enough. I don't even want to do it by myself — I know, I was surprised, too. I've had not a single stirring of desire in the last several weeks. I miss the idea of it, but my interest at this point is only vague and theoretical.

Which is a crying damn shame. It all used to work so well.