Some men love sex with their pregnant partners, while others view it as a complete turn-off. Regardless of whether your desire increases or decreases due to the pregnancy, your partner may not feel sexual at all. Your mother-to-be may feel fatigued and nauseous during the first 12 weeks, also called the first trimester, of pregnancy. Her thoughts and desires may not include a desire for sexual intimacy, or if they do, the nausea and general malaise she experiences during this phase of pregnancy will probably interfere with her ability to follow through on thoughts of sex.
Patience and Understanding Can Lead to Second Trimester Rewards
During this time, she needs emotional support and may need help completing tasks around the house if the nausea lasts past the morning hours or includes some vomiting. She will appreciate your patience and understanding. Spend some time listening to her talk about the physical and emotional challenges she has faced in the first trimester. Unless she has a relatively uncommon, but more severe type of nausea, called hyperemesis gravidarum, she will feel markedly better during the second trimester, or second twelve weeks. Changes in certain hormone levels during pregnancy will increase lubrication and blood flow to the genitals, making thoughts of sexual intimacy more alluring.
Concerned About the Baby During Sex?
If your partner is healthy with an uncomplicated pregnancy, sex is very safe. Your developing baby lies in a cushioned position in the uterus, far out of the reach of your penis during intercourse. Many moms-to-be report higher satisfaction and intensified orgasm during pregnancy. During the second trimester, your partner's abdomen usually has not grown large enough to hinder face-to-face intercourse. However, pain or bleeding during and after intercourse merits an immediate visit to your partner's OB/GYN.
What If She's Still Not Interested?
Some women may feel 'fat' or unattractive during pregnancy; depression, poor body image, and low self-esteem affect sexual desire in all women whether pregnant or not. Try connecting with her through some of her favorite activities or by talking with her about what you find beautiful and attractive about her pregnant figure. Regardless of whether she responds to these overtures, the pregnancy only lasts three trimesters. While your sex life will forever change once baby arrives, you and your partner can come up with an intimacy plan that works for the whole family and creates positive, rather than negative change.
Positions and Oral Sex
While you and your partner may feel willing to engage in sex during the third trimester, her abdomen will have grown markedly, making many positions unrealistic or impossible. At this point, a side by side position or entering from behind represent the best choices and most comfortable for mom. Oral sex offers a relatively safe alternative for both partners, but never blow air into your pregnant partner's vagina when performing it on her. This can create an embolus (air bubble) in her blood stream, which may travel to the lungs and could result in death. Avoid oral sex if you have a cold sore, active oral herpes, or other infection.
High-Risk Pregnancies
Gestational diabetes, placenta previa, and other complications may cause your partner's OB/GYN to order complete bed rest. This means rest and no sex. Some women with higher risk pregnancies can engage in limited sexual activity, but only her physician can make the decision as to how much and what type, if any, is allowed.
Final Considerations
If you had a strong and satisfying intimate life with your partner prior to pregnancy, chances are it will return sometime during the first six months of baby's arrival. If your pre-pregnancy sex life was sparse or non-existent, it won't get better after the baby is born. Seeking couples counseling from a therapist who specializes in couples sexual therapy may help. Ask your partner's OB/GYN if he or she has pamphlets especially for new fathers that detail sexual intimacy and your baby's impact upon it in terms men can relate to easily.
2011年3月27日星期日
2011年2月28日星期一
Amorous moose worries hiker on Gros Morne trail
I have been afflicted with the Bubonic Plague of colds and/or infections, viruses or whatever this is that has lasted for two weeks now. I have a head cold, a chest cold, two cold sores, cold feet, cold hands, not to mention receiving the cold shoulder from everyone because I might be contagious. Two weekends of outings have been missed and for that reason fodder for writing my column is sparse.
On that note I will delve in to the mental archives and write about an outing to Newfoundland.
About 16 months ago I had the privilege to go to Newfoundland to Gros Morne National Park and, more specifically, the tiny fishing hamlet by the name of Rocky Harbour. Officially I was there to attend a course called The Edge of the Wedge, which is given by the Gros Morne Institute for Sustainable Tourism (G-Mist). It was and is a three-day course on "experiential tourism" which is a key phrase and philosophy in the tourism industry. I have taken a few courses in my time and I've gotta say that this one is one of the very best. The three facilitators were professional, knowledgeable and switched off from one another seamlessly and kept me engaged all of the time.
As mentioned, the setting for these courses was in the tiny hamlet of Rocky Harbour, NL, which is in Gros Morne National Park. This place is a paradise for hikers, snowshoers and cross-country skiers. If that was all it was that would be enough, but there is so much more.
It is about the people with their unique accents and vernacular, the lives they live and the warmth and charm they exude in the face of, what to me looks like a harsh and rugged lifestyle.
My coursemates and I were privileged to go to a secluded fishing station and were greeted by a fisherwoman and two fishermen who showed us the ins and outs of gutting a few freshly caught cod. Most of the party gutted, extracted the cheeks and the tongue and then salted the rest of the cod in preparation for drying. The woman, whose name is Louise Decker, was hilarious while showing us the proper way to prepare the cod. She told us about her life and transition from Newfoundland's first fisherwoman to assuming full-time maintenance duties in the national park, in addition to becoming a part-time park interpreter. The two men, Bobby and Roger, then showed us, and insisted we attempt, the tricky techniques of making and repairing fishing nets.
After our fishy experience, we moved along the beach with a park geologist by the name of Rob Hingston to receive a lesson in Gros Morne's fascinating geological history.
On another day we went on a quest using GPS to search for two locations. The last of these was the Lobster Cove Lighthouse where we met Michael Brezinsky, who had a Maritimes connection. Both he and his partner Anne Marceau worked in Fundy National Park many years ago and knew many of the local Albert County crowd.
Michael explained a number of things through hands- (and tongue-) on demonstrations. The tongue part came in when he told us how to tell the difference between a balsam fir and a white spruce by tasting the needles. The balsam fir is actually quite sweet, whereas the spruce was high up on the rancid scale.
Perhaps the most interesting part of our encounter with Michael was the explanation of the Tuckamore phenomenon (the origin of the word is sketchy). The balsam fir and the white spruce and some other species in other locations on the island of Newfoundland are so windblown that, combined with the rain and snow, they become bent and gnarled in the direction of the prevailing wind as well as becoming tightly compacted and dense. Early explorers were able to walk over the tops of them in places, as they were difficult to walk through. By the same token, getting underneath them provided excellent shelter from the elements.
There were other experiential components to our course that I do not have space to relate to you here. They involved music on several levels, as well as experiences in cooking, hooking and looking. It was an information- and experience-packed three days, ones that I will remember for a long time.
I guess I had better get on to some hiking experiences. I stayed an extra two days after the course was finished so that I could do some hiking and exploring.
The first hike was to Western Brook Pond which is a landlocked fjord about 32 kms (21 miles) from the visitor centre near Rocky Harbour.
Keep in mind that this was past Thanksgiving and I was all alone; there was nary a sign of another human when I encountered fresh moose tracks. When I looked up, I saw four mighty hooves which were attached to a large (largest I have ever seen) cow moose. The dear dame was standing on the trail blocking my path forward. She gently turned her head to look at me and politely sauntered off the trail about 40 ft. or so as if to say "go ahead." I knew I should have nothing to fear from the great beast and gingerly tiptoed by her and continued on my way. I thought that was it until the lovely lady proceeded back on to the trail and started to follow along behind me.
I must say that I began to worry a little (a huge understatement) as I had no intention of being the pied piper to this enamoured ungulate. For a nearly a kilometre the moose followed me until I neared a dock where a tour boat would normally be in the busy season. I went through the gate to the doc, closing it behind me and went out to the tip of the wharf. I looked back at my friend who finally decided that I was not worth the effort and wondered off in to the forest. Whew! It was only then that I really started paying attention to the spectacular scenery in front of me.
The cliffs in the distance guarding the Western Brook Pond rise from the bog 650 metres (2,035 ft.) high and continue down into the pond which is 165m (544 ft.) deep. You can get closer and indeed up the cliffs if you continue on to Stag Brook and up to the top from Snug Harbour, but his is only for superbly experienced hikers.
On that note I will delve in to the mental archives and write about an outing to Newfoundland.
About 16 months ago I had the privilege to go to Newfoundland to Gros Morne National Park and, more specifically, the tiny fishing hamlet by the name of Rocky Harbour. Officially I was there to attend a course called The Edge of the Wedge, which is given by the Gros Morne Institute for Sustainable Tourism (G-Mist). It was and is a three-day course on "experiential tourism" which is a key phrase and philosophy in the tourism industry. I have taken a few courses in my time and I've gotta say that this one is one of the very best. The three facilitators were professional, knowledgeable and switched off from one another seamlessly and kept me engaged all of the time.
As mentioned, the setting for these courses was in the tiny hamlet of Rocky Harbour, NL, which is in Gros Morne National Park. This place is a paradise for hikers, snowshoers and cross-country skiers. If that was all it was that would be enough, but there is so much more.
It is about the people with their unique accents and vernacular, the lives they live and the warmth and charm they exude in the face of, what to me looks like a harsh and rugged lifestyle.
My coursemates and I were privileged to go to a secluded fishing station and were greeted by a fisherwoman and two fishermen who showed us the ins and outs of gutting a few freshly caught cod. Most of the party gutted, extracted the cheeks and the tongue and then salted the rest of the cod in preparation for drying. The woman, whose name is Louise Decker, was hilarious while showing us the proper way to prepare the cod. She told us about her life and transition from Newfoundland's first fisherwoman to assuming full-time maintenance duties in the national park, in addition to becoming a part-time park interpreter. The two men, Bobby and Roger, then showed us, and insisted we attempt, the tricky techniques of making and repairing fishing nets.
After our fishy experience, we moved along the beach with a park geologist by the name of Rob Hingston to receive a lesson in Gros Morne's fascinating geological history.
On another day we went on a quest using GPS to search for two locations. The last of these was the Lobster Cove Lighthouse where we met Michael Brezinsky, who had a Maritimes connection. Both he and his partner Anne Marceau worked in Fundy National Park many years ago and knew many of the local Albert County crowd.
Michael explained a number of things through hands- (and tongue-) on demonstrations. The tongue part came in when he told us how to tell the difference between a balsam fir and a white spruce by tasting the needles. The balsam fir is actually quite sweet, whereas the spruce was high up on the rancid scale.
Perhaps the most interesting part of our encounter with Michael was the explanation of the Tuckamore phenomenon (the origin of the word is sketchy). The balsam fir and the white spruce and some other species in other locations on the island of Newfoundland are so windblown that, combined with the rain and snow, they become bent and gnarled in the direction of the prevailing wind as well as becoming tightly compacted and dense. Early explorers were able to walk over the tops of them in places, as they were difficult to walk through. By the same token, getting underneath them provided excellent shelter from the elements.
There were other experiential components to our course that I do not have space to relate to you here. They involved music on several levels, as well as experiences in cooking, hooking and looking. It was an information- and experience-packed three days, ones that I will remember for a long time.
I guess I had better get on to some hiking experiences. I stayed an extra two days after the course was finished so that I could do some hiking and exploring.
The first hike was to Western Brook Pond which is a landlocked fjord about 32 kms (21 miles) from the visitor centre near Rocky Harbour.
Keep in mind that this was past Thanksgiving and I was all alone; there was nary a sign of another human when I encountered fresh moose tracks. When I looked up, I saw four mighty hooves which were attached to a large (largest I have ever seen) cow moose. The dear dame was standing on the trail blocking my path forward. She gently turned her head to look at me and politely sauntered off the trail about 40 ft. or so as if to say "go ahead." I knew I should have nothing to fear from the great beast and gingerly tiptoed by her and continued on my way. I thought that was it until the lovely lady proceeded back on to the trail and started to follow along behind me.
I must say that I began to worry a little (a huge understatement) as I had no intention of being the pied piper to this enamoured ungulate. For a nearly a kilometre the moose followed me until I neared a dock where a tour boat would normally be in the busy season. I went through the gate to the doc, closing it behind me and went out to the tip of the wharf. I looked back at my friend who finally decided that I was not worth the effort and wondered off in to the forest. Whew! It was only then that I really started paying attention to the spectacular scenery in front of me.
The cliffs in the distance guarding the Western Brook Pond rise from the bog 650 metres (2,035 ft.) high and continue down into the pond which is 165m (544 ft.) deep. You can get closer and indeed up the cliffs if you continue on to Stag Brook and up to the top from Snug Harbour, but his is only for superbly experienced hikers.
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