I woke up Easter morning, at my sister-in-law’s, feeling slightly off.

I had just passed the 27 week mark in my pregnancy, the exact point I was put in the hospital, followed by bed-rest, in my first pregnancy.  And, although I was trying to stay positive, I knew I had a higher risk of it happening all over again.

Sure enough, after an intense Easter egg hunt, the kids had one and the women another (there was jewelry in 6 of the eggs, generously donated by the crazy talented (and wonderful) Claudia Lobao. I scored some earrings – YAY), and a dip in the pool, I started feeling WEIRD. Very contract-y with lots of pressure, and a weird sensation, like a wood pecker had taken up residence in my lady bits. FUN!

I snuck out of the pool and went to lay down, but the weirdness stayed with me most of the day. I went to bed early, hoping it was just a bad day.

*cutting to the chase*

The next day I packed us all up to head back to Houston. I started feeling weird in the car again. And then woke up that night feeling crampy, tight belly, and crazy lower back pain.

And I knew.

It was happening again.

Those stupid ass pre-term contractions.

I went to my fabulous doc the next morning, still hoping he would just tell me I was crazy and to go home.

He didn’t.

He checked my cervix, which ouch and he didn’t even buy me a drink first, and made the face. The face that told me I wasn’t just crazy and something was indeed going on.

So, here’s where we are at now.

I was given a steroid shot for the baby’s lungs if he decides to come early, and sent home to stay in bed for two days.

I go back on Thursday to see if anything is progressing and for an OMG ARE YOU REALLY GONNA STICK THAT HUGE PROGESTERONE NEEDLE IN MY ASS CHEEK, which I will get weekly until this kid comes out.  (I got them with my first pregnancy – NO FUN – BRUISED ASS.)

According to my doctor, I’m  just a “contractor”. I told him I’d been called worse.

If my cervix is still dilating/effacing, I will likely be put in the hospital for a while.

BLERGH.

If not, I think I’ll be ordered back home to chill.

Have you tried chilling with an almost three year old?

Yeah.

Exactly.

So, in summation, the Easter Bunny not only brought chocolate eggs and hot wheels to my kid, but he also brought me preterm contractions and a soft cervix.

Dick.

Sex.

Chances are you’re having it, you’ve had it, or you’re thinking about having it.

And, if you’re among the first two groups, you know it’s nothing like you see in the movies.

No, it’s not sweet morning kisses, washboard abs, and perky boobs.

It’s definitely more like you better go brush your teeth before you kiss me, embarrassing noises, and can you please, for the love of God, stop looking at my post baby stomach and saggy boobs while we are doing this!

When I decided to write this, this little story about sexual insecurities, I planned on making it about everyone but me.

It was perfect, I’d simply ask people what they worried about when it comes to sex and avoid all together writing about what I worried about.

I set out on my journey by asking twitter and the ladies here at Curvy Girl Guide what they were insecure about when it came to sex.

Feeling brave? Send me your top sex insecurity. You can DM me. Totally confidential – no names will be used. Pinky swear.

I hit send and waited for a bit, hoping I hadn’t invited any pervs into my day.

The answers came flooding in. Some anonymous, some public. Most from women, a couple from the men.

So many comments and confessions, honest and heartfelt.

So many, that it gave me the confidence to join them with some of my own.

But, I’ll go ahead and let them go first.

Here are a few of the many, many responses from some amazingly honest women:

“I sometimes wonder if I am too loud.”

“The fact that my lower abdomen looks like a vagina.”

“Insecurity? 6 months pregnant with gas I can’t control. That about sums up my sexual insecurity right now.”

“Body issues. Specifically, the jello that is my lower tummy. My youngest child is 8, so I know it’s there for good, but it embarrasses me and makes me uncomfortable naked, which sometimes keeps me from enjoying myself. Huge turn off if a guy touches me there.”

“My inner thighs. I used to be a fat kid, and I’ve had stretch marks since forever ”

“Last eve I said my ass (I’m 41, thin, but my ass is 41 yrs old). A bigger insecurity is making, ahem, vag ‘music’ post coital-mortifying.”

“Honestly, mine is that I pretty much never want to have sex.  I have no sex drive at all.  I would be perfectly fine to have sex one day a week max, and not worry about it again until the next week.  It’s got nothing to do with my husband who I love dearly, it’s me, but I’m just not all that interested.  Never have been.”

“Hangy stomach.  Stretched out vagina.  I could never have an affair because I wouldn’t let anyone other than my husband see me naked.”

So, based on my super scientific research, the biggest insecurities seem to be women not wanting it as much as their men do, issues with being seen naked, especially our bodies after babies, and strange noises coming from even stranger places. (You know what I’m talking about.)

The few men that participated were mostly worried about pleasing their partner and the size of their, er, equipment.

And me?

I worry about feeling like a sexual being again.  Making another human being seems to have temporarily taken that from me. With the poopy diapers, the tantrums, and the having babies, it’s hard to relate to myself in that way.  There is a huge disconnect with that part of me. The part of me that used to flirt with my husband and get all dressed up for our dates together. It’s hard to turn the mommy off and the wife on. And Sex? I could take it or leave it these days.

Also, I always stress about being presentable, um, down there.  It’s hard enough to keep it all nice and neat when I am not pregnant, between the ingrown hairs and the hoping I smell fresh like flowers. But, pregnant, I can’t even see down there to clean things up. I am like an 70′s porn star right now.

So, there you have it.

Happy Birthday Beautiful Susie!

We miss you more than words could ever say.

Toasting you today with shoe shopping, lunch and a great glass of wine!

Celebrate big, Sue.

We love you.

Do you have a celebrity pass?

Someone that, with your spouses permission, you could shack up with if given the chance?

I do! I do!

Let us all take a moment to stare at this masterpiece.

Doesn’t he make you feel kind of funny? Like when you used to climb the rope in gym class?

Or is it just me?

The ultimate for me would be to put this guy’s brain and personality…

…into Jon Number One’s hot body.

Is this asking for too much?

Who is your celebrity pass?

Because I know you have one.

Freak.