A Weekend Getaway Literally Saved Our Sexless Marriage
The passion in my marriage had totally disappeared since the birth of our first and only child. Nights were spent in separate rooms enjoying our personal hobbies. I would seclude myself upstairs while my husband stayed downstairs. Sometimes we slept together, but most of the time we didn't. My schedule requires late nights and his requires early bed times.
After having a baby, we needed to be alone. We needed to finish a sentence without the interruption of a toddler. The majority of our attempts at a conversation were stunted by a version of:
What was I saying? Just forget it. It wasn't important anyways.
This upset me, because talking is how we fell in love. I fell in love with my husband because of his stories. He fell in love with me because I made him laugh. And those attributes were usually combined with lusty and loud love making.
But over the previous year, we began shutting down. We found ourselves exhausted after our baby's bedtime, and since we were choosing to retreat to our separate areas, our sex life completely suffered.
So, this past Christmas, I asked for one gift. I wanted a babysitter and I wanted a getaway.
Because if we stayed home, we would have felt compelled to do some inane chore. We'd be cleaning our house. Anything. We wouldn't have made time to just be together.
And then the worst thing happened — I didn't get the gift I wanted for Christmas. The day after Christmas I shut down and just sobbed. I didn't want this present for myself. I needed it for us.
Because this was such a blow, we vowed to talk to our families. I spoke with my mother and my husband spoke with his parents. Together we worked out the solution to childcare and — thankfully! — immediately booked a cabin in the Smoky Mountains. It had good memories attached to it, as we had rented that very cabin during our first year of marriage. Over the last three years and throughout the hard parenting days, this cabin was often referred to as our "oasis," or some sort of faraway mirage we would never see again.
The cabin had all the amenities of pleasure accompanied by seclusion. It was all ambience and music and relaxation under a starlit sky. Inside the chalet's open floor plan, there was a whirlpool tub surrounded by mirrors. Because hot married couples need to see themselves being sexy! Seeing is believing. And there was a pool table — minus the crowded smoky bar where would have to line up our quarters and wait our turns.
We just played and drank as much as we wanted. As we played, I bent over and showed off my goods because, well, having a child had its benefits — one of them being an enhanced rack.
My husband and I didn't just play indoors. We also went out on dates. Real dates. In public. We sat in restaurants, where we ordered drinks and took our time. This was amazing because normally, our restaurant experiences are reduced to asking our child to sit down, and then asking for the check and two to-go boxes.
These simple pleasures, which are ordinary to many, were a gift to us. To sit and simply talk to the man I married, to the person with whom I chose to spend my life. It felt exhilarating. My mind raced back to our first date. It had been 14 years since I sat across from him and didn't know what to say. It was that kind of nervous excitement where butterflies stormed through my stomach. I wondered, "What would we talk about?" And just like our first date, the words found their way and the conversation — along with extremely uninhibited, overly loud sex — lasted long after midnight.
That night, as we sat under the stars, I once again saw the person I love. Even though time has gotten to us, I can still catch a glimpse of the person I met in the beginning. And I remember why I fell in love with him.
We needed to go back to our cabin. We needed to be more than parents — we needed to be husband and wife. We needed to remember what it felt like to be lovers again.