My partner and I have been together for the entirety of my adult life—nearly 13 years, with 8 of those spent as a married couple. Throughout our time together, I have never once used the restroom in his presence, nor have I allowed myself to pass gas in front of him. Grooming my intimate areas while he is around? That’s a hard no for me.
I strive to maintain a sense of allure in our relationship. I want him to see me as a stunning, sexy goddess who doesn’t engage in mundane human activities like peeing or pooping. Although he understands that these things happen, I prefer not to emphasize them. After all, no couple needs to witness every unappealing aspect of the other’s life.
Then, I became pregnant.
Needless to say, the element of mystery swiftly vanished. While I have yet to actually relieve myself in front of him, “morning” sickness struck at the most inconvenient moments, such as when I was brushing my teeth before bed. Acknowledging that my nausea was a direct result of our little creation, he held back my hair and comforted me as I struggled nightly. Furthermore, due to the overwhelming sensitivity to cleaning products during pregnancy, he was left with the unenviable task of scrubbing the toilet.
Unfortunately, this was just the onset of the unraveling of my goddess persona. My back erupted in large, boil-like blemishes reminiscent of the “before” sections in ProActiv commercials. When my obstetrician recommended a pregnancy-safe treatment, guess who had to apply it to my oozing skin? That’s right—my husband. The image of the beautiful goddess he once envisioned is now compromised with moments of vomiting and unsightly skin issues.
However, the most challenging aspect of pregnancy is the experience of bathroom visits. Don’t misunderstand; there is no better relief than finally being able to go, but the process itself feels like intense preparation for labor. Even the thought of needing to use the restroom after taking stool softeners makes me wince. With our only bathroom located on the main floor next to our bedroom, my husband has regrettably become accustomed to my grunts and groans echoing from the bathroom, likely questioning what chaos is occurring.
Adding to this list of intimate experiences are the OB appointments my husband faithfully accompanies me to, during which he has witnessed various examinations and even a vaginal ultrasound. The pristine image of the goddess has completely faded, leaving no room for mystery. Like the labor preparations that come with pregnancy, these new realities are preparing me for the moment when my husband will be present during childbirth, where bodily functions are sure to be chaotic.
Despite the loss of the goddess facade during my pregnancy, each night, after tending to my troubled skin, he places his hand on my growing belly, kisses me, and reassures me that I have never looked more beautiful in his eyes.
In those moments, I gaze at him in bewilderment. I don’t ponder how he perceives me as beautiful; instead, I question what sort of magic or medication he might be under to feel that way, hoping I can share in it when the time comes for labor.
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In summary, pregnancy has dramatically altered the dynamics of my marriage, stripping away the mystique I had long maintained. Despite the challenges and discomforts, the love and support from my partner remain unwavering.
Keyphrase: pregnancy and marriage dynamics
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