While I am in an espousing frame of mind, I have to touch upon a subject that is both personal and touchy. With DW's operation comes certain obvious concerns and cautions. Having any surgery, even less invasive surgery as the one she went through, modifies the body in ways it was not meant to have happen. You cut into the adominal wall tissue and muscles, move organs around, cut and stitch some internals items... it all affects you and the ability to do the normal things you would find yourself doing.
Now, since all of you are familiar with the what, where, why, when and how's of her operation, I think you have an idea of what we can and cannot do. She cannot bend like she normally would. She attempted to pass me a pillow by twisting her upper body and nearly passed out from the pain. She cannot lift anything overly heavy (not that she was Ms. Atlas before) and nearly dropped a number of things that she had no bloody business attempting to lift so early on in her recovery. She cannot press or be pressed upon as she is still sore and hurting where she incurred what amounts to essentially "multiple stab wounds". And it is in this last part that I have heard a particular comment a number of times that I think I want to address now.
For those of you who do not know me, I have grown in girth over the last few years and am at my heaviest ever. I want to lose the weight; I think I am not mentally ready to do what it takes just yet. Now, I still buy off the rack, can tie my own shoes, can fit in most reasonably sized standard seating (including the confines of the POS car) and yes, I can still see my winky and keep it clean. The problem is that with a protruding belly, I would definitely be pressing upon the lady's sensitive areas during "relations". So, for the foreseeable future, relations are simply out of the question. Add to that the moritorium on plowing AND seeding the field for three to six months and the picture is looking pretty grim in the fun department.
A number of folks have taken it upon themselves to point out this obvious fact. Really, I may be a little sensitive to this as I am the one experiencing it but there really is not a whole lof humourous to this fact of our current life. We are married just over two years now; we are newlyweds. We are newlyweds trying to have children. All of which points in every direction to "relations". Now, forgive me DW, it was not like I had a standing invitation to the party before; I had to make a lot of my own invitations, if you get my drift. So, when you are after water in the desert and someone comes along and buries the one oasis you know about, you get a touch sensitive on the subject.
Somewhere after she turned 40, DW stopped looking at herself as I see her. (Here is where I generate more hate mail). My DW was never Halle Berry or Heidi Klum. What she was and is to me is a real woman. She has real curves which I like to touch and hold on to. She has a real personality which I like to interact with. She has a lovely rack which I like to get lost in at every opportunity she allows me to. And I enjoy "relations" with her whenever the stars align to allow that blessed act to happen.
So, no, it is not easy not being able to "relate" at ALL. Since we have gotten together, I have "related" with no one else and I don't want to as DW "relates" quite well, thank you. I was prepared from the outset for this as I am a realist and I knew this would be the first thing to go. And, DW, I am not writing this to make you feel guilty or sad in any way whatsoever. We have a goal and this is one more step to attain it and when we "relate" again, we'll "relate" the hell out of the place. I just miss you right now. Maybe one of these ladies can make you hear and understand that I think you are sexy as hell and I'd keep you occupied and "relating" all day long if allowed.
It's just nothing to joke about any more. At least not until I get a few in me. :)
PS For those squirming and now looking to write me emails about "Dude, I did NOT need to know all of this" just remember that I warned you in the title of the post so, stop yer bitchin' and moanin'.