Applying what I am learning

Last night Husband and I were making love, and I had the usual invasive thoughts and images of him with other women that usually accompany any sexual activity between us.

This time those were fraught with fears about Husband fantasizing about other women while he was making love to me.

I tried to think about why I was so afraid of this. First, why do I care so much about whether or not Husband finds me attractive (in my fears he was fantasizing about the other women he's had sex with because he couldn't get aroused by me)? I can be attractive whether or not he finds me so, right?

Second, if he is thinking about others (which he says he isn't, claims that in fact he can't) why does it matter because I can't control it, might not even know it? If I don't know it, it can't hurt me, right?

The answer I arrived at is that what I'm afraid of is disappearing, being negated, being invalidated by a lack of connection between us during this intimate act. If husband is with someone else or with fantasy in his mind when he's making love to me it's almost as if I'm not there. So why do I need his validation, why do I need to feel recognized by him in order to feel...here in the world?

I'm sure it's tied into the fact that deep intimacy demands both partners be fully present to and with each other. But why can't I just enjoy the moment, wherever he is and wherever I am?

I tried to think about being whole and complete as an expression of the Divine, but the fear persisted in the moment.

Surge

So I took the test and I'm having my surge. I should ovulate within the next 24 to 48 hours if my 43 year old body will cooperate.

I took it today when I got home from work. I texted Husband: "I'm ovulating!" Went out back to hit the treadmill. Read Eat, Pray, Love. I'm getting close to the end. A little disappointed to see that it's come back to men.

Get off the treadmill and go inside to say goodnight to Son. Husband is reading to him. Son is on the brink of sleep. I lay down beside him. He opens his eyes and grabs my head. Husband reads some more. A Scooby Doo book. Son begins to snore lightly.

It's Friday night. I ask what Husband wants to do. I know part of the answer will be making love because we've been trying for another baby for...a year or two now? I can't remember. Anyway...he suggests that we go downstairs, have some wine, watch Project Runway and go to bed. But I don't want television. And I don't want wine. That's fine, he says. But I want something. I want something that will distract me from the thoughts I have when we make love. So I can make love with abandon, and hopefully make this baby we both want so much. Make love and be present instead of bing distracted by thoughts of him with other women. And I realize that I feel like I need a scotch or a chocolate vodka to distract me from those thoughts I usually have when we make love. Those other women, what they might have done, him kissing them, having sex with them, how did he touch them, what did he think while he was going down on them, were they beautiful, flat stomachs and full breasts, what did he think about when he was fucking them, where was I.

After a trip to two stores I have that chocolate vodka. And I'm enjoying the distraction from the feelings I don't want to have. I'm ready to have fun without the pain. Pathetic. Dangerous. But I'm a mother. I will be responsible. I won't let my son down. And eventually I'll have the serenity, the peace that will get me through these moments better than chocolate vodka. But for now, it's the easy way out. And yet I think to myself, what am I doing? Tomorrow is a new day.