How Motherhood Earned Me a Free Sex Toy
[While I'm taking a bit of a break this week, please enjoy this guest post by Paige Schilt. Paige is a dyke mama, an activist, a low-femme nerd, and a part-time professor of Feminist Studies. She is also a contributing writer at The Bilerico Project. —DR]
When I was pregnant with my son, I heard a comedienne talking about the aftereffects of childbirth:
“I’m peeing all the time. I’m actually peeing right now,” she said.
That will never happen to me, I told myself.
I was in denial—the kind of deep, pre-delivery denial that ensures the continuation of the species. This maternal defense mechanism sustained several calming delusions. I believed that my partner and I would take a pleasant walk during the early stages of labor. I believed that I would not beg for drugs. And I believed that my intimate geography would not be forever reconfigured into Frankenpuss.
Once my son was born, however, I had plenty of other things on my mind. The war in Iraq had just started. There was an anti-marriage amendment on the ballot in my state. Also, there was this new little person in my life, and his every coo and sigh was mesmerizing.
So it took me a while to come to terms with the fact that I had a pee problem. Read the rest of this post »

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