About two years later we put a down payment on a fixer-upper in a good neighborhood. It took us a month to get enough fixed up so that we could move in, and after that it was well over a year before we had the home in good condition.
A couple years later we sold that house for twice the amount we paid for it and bought another fixer- upper. We have done that four times so far. Between Al's job, my job, flipping houses and living within our means, we are not rich, but we are comfortable.
But our marriage was not comfortable. It started being uncomfortable on that first night in February. We didn't know what we were doing. Yes, Al obviously ejaculated. I had an orgasm (I wasn't sure what it was at the time, but I knew it was significant). My hymen had been broken by the handle of a hairbrush years before, so that was not a problem, and we had enough foreplay to make me sopping wet, so it was not painful for me. But it was over in a fairly short amount of time and instead of basking in the afterglow we were immediately terrified that Al's parents could come home at any moment and we would be caught. So it left us unsatisfied.
We really didn't mean to go that far and the fact that we did filled us with guilt and a resolve that we would not do it again. But over the days and weeks to follow that resolve was tested by the fact that we had already done it once. An invisible barrier had been crossed. The temptation to cross it again became much stronger.
With Al's being on the basketball team, working and going to school, we did not have time or opportunity to repeat the accident before we found out we were pregnant and had told our parents. After that, although they did not say anything, we felt that they were scrutinizing our every move. So we did not have intercourse again until we were married.
But then it was in an apartment IN MY PARENTS' HOUSE. That had an affect on me. The apartment was right under my parents' living room. Thoughts would go through my head, "Were they still up? Could they hear us?" Those thoughts kept me from opening myself up completely to having enjoyable and uninhibited sex with my husband.
At the same time I had this crazy notion that sex should be entirely spontaneous without any planning ahead or preparation. The idea that there might be books or videos out there that might be helpful to us in learning how to pleasure one another was somehow repulsive to me. Birds do it without reading books. Bees do it without watching videos. Dogs and cats do it without something or someone showing them how. People should not need instruction. That was my mind set.
And sex was dirty -- physically dirty -- for both sexes -- occurring in the same general area of the body from which one urinates and defecates. And it was morally dirty, too. My parents never talked about it. Sex shops and XXX bookstores were limited to certain neighborhoods and had the reputation of catering to people of low moral character. And while there was plenty of talk about sex in high school, that talk was often in whispers or modified whispers and was limited to when people were in a group where everyone felt the topic of conversation would be kept hidden and their conversation would not be monitored or overheard.
When we did start having sex, once we were married, we were somewhat afraid of it. I was now three and a half months along. Al did not want to hurt me or the baby, and I did not know just how careful we had to be, either. As the months progressed I became bigger and more uncomfortable which just made it more difficult for us to engage in any type of uninhibited lovemaking.
After Dory was born, she slept in the same room in which we slept. That was quite inhibiting, too, for more than just the, "Don't wake the baby," factor. I didn't want my baby daughter to be aware of us doing the nasty.
In addition (and I don't know whether every woman feels the same about this) pregnancy and childbirth was traumatic for me. The discomfort in the last months before giving birth, the pain of labor and delivery and the fact that I didn't just bounce back from it in a couple of days stuck with me and lessened my desire to have sex. It made me afraid of getting pregnant again.
And then there was the image of the mom. I've read that I am not uncommon in feeling this way. As I grew up observing my mom, I was left with the impression that moms and dads are not sexual people. It's like I preferred to think of myself as having been born of a virgin rather than think that my parents conceived me through the act of sexual intercourse.
As I look back, my years in high school may have been fueled by hormones, but that hormonal influence was greatly increased and influenced by the girls around me and the culture around me which exerted a great deal of pressure to dress in ways that were considered to be attractive and to feel the need to have a boyfriend. If I did not have what it takes to attract an acceptable boyfriend, the message was that there was something seriously wrong with me. To this day I do not know where the hormonal pressure dropped off and the peer pressure took over.
And then, of course, pregnancy does a huge number on a girl's hormones and I do not know to what extent the modification of my hormonal balance that came about because of my pregnancy and delivery changed my desire for having a sexual relationship with my husband.
But the bottom line is that once we got pregnant, our sexual desires changed as well. Once we were married and until the baby was born we were both very cautious. Because we got pregnant before marriage we felt guilt and shame in connection with sex. But after Dory was born and the obstetrician gave us the all clear, Al was eager to begin an enthusiastic sexual relationship, ". . . on the right foot," as he put it. I was much more hesitant.
The obstetrician gave me a DVD of exercises to do to get back in shape. "Pregnancy can do a real number on a woman's body," she said, "but it doesn't have to. Do these exercises and eat right and you will feel yourself getting stronger as well as getting your shape back." I did the exercises and I got my shape back, but I kept on wearing the baggy clothing.
The differences in our attitude towards sex became a great source of contention in our marriage. It seems like he was always wanting to do something sexual with me and would try to initiate some kind of sexual activity almost daily. I never initiated anything sexual, and let it be known that his advances toward me were not wanted.
To his credit, Al was sensitive to this. His reaction to this was that he must be doing something wrong. He therefore, on his own, started buying books on marriage and what a man can do to make a sexual relationship more satisfying for the woman. In the process he loaded himself up with a lot of guilt, figuring that it was all his fault that I didn't seem to like to have sex with him. The fact that no matter how hard he tried, he was not able to have sex with me that gave me pleasure diminished his self-confidence.
In his reading and watching videos he learned some things he could do to bring more pleasure to me. He really wanted to make sure that I had one or more orgasms before he would come. If he did bring me to orgasm it was largely a physical reaction to his stimulation. I was trying hard not to enjoy it. Sometimes he really got to me and I would have a full blown, ". . . fucked senseless," orgasm where I would have pretty much lost total control.
After those times I would be upset at him for the next day or days to come because I felt he had breached my defenses and caused me to enjoy the experience in spite of the fact that I was trying so hard to be a good wife and mother who is not supposed to enjoy sex.
Eventually, I forced him to go to counseling by threatening divorce. The first couple of counselors disappointed me because they thought that our problem was in communication. I wanted them to identify the problem as being that Al wanted way too much sex.
