PLEASE, CHEAT ON ME!
We worked with Naomi to share her story about her SEX PHOBIA. It’s so bad that she’s urging her man to sleep with another woman... We shared her story in Take a Break magazine and The Sun. Do YOU have a story to share? #sellmystory
Here, Naomi tells her story:
I covered my face as I burst into giggles, laughing so much there were tears in my eyes. I couldn’t even remember what my boyfriend had said to set me off.
‘You crack me up,’ I said. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too,’ Daniel said.
Then he leant forward and gave me a kiss. Before I knew it we’d made it to the bedroom and were pulling each other’s clothes off.
I loved Daniel’s fantastic sense of humour, the fact we had a cracking sex life too was a bonus.
Then one day, I missed my period.
I couldn’t be … could I?
I’d tried countless brands of the contraceptive pill over the years, as well as the implant, but they either made me gain weight or affected my mood so we’d been using condoms.
I took a pregnancy test and showed Daniel.
‘We’re having a baby? That’s amazing,’ he grinned.
‘I can’t believe it,’ I said.
But a few weeks later, I suffered a miscarriage.
Six months later, my period was late for a second time.
‘What if I miscarry again?’ I said.
‘We’ve got to think positively,’ Daniel said.
I knew he was right and put on a brave face until it was time for our 12-week scan.
‘There’s the heartbeat,’ the sonographer said.
I smiled with relief and Daniel took my hand as we watched the black and white blob on the screen.
Back home, our sex life was as active as ever and even with my bump Daniel couldn’t get enough of me.
At our 20-week scan we found out we were having a boy and we started stocking up on nappies, wipes and babygrows.
Then a few weeks later, I began getting cramps in my stomach.
‘They’re like niggly pains,’ I told the midwife.
‘It could be due to a low-lying placenta,’ she said.
A scan confirmed my placenta was completely covering my cervix.
‘You have placenta previa,’ a doctor told me.
‘Am I going to lose my baby?’ I asked.
‘There’s a possibility,’ he replied. ‘If you hemorrhage and the baby tries to come naturally, both of your lives could be in danger.’
I burst into tears and Daniel hugged me.
The doctor went on: ‘But the placenta could move away from your cervix, only time will tell.’
It was hell waiting for another scan, I desperately wanted to know if our baby was OK.
Then, 27 weeks, a scan showed the placenta had moved slightly. It was a huge weight off my mind and I was finally feeling good about the pregnancy again.
That night, me and Daniel were in bed watching TV when suddenly the moment took us. We kissed and wriggled closer to one another, then we started having sex…
‘Stop!’ I cried.
Daniel froze and then spotted what I’d seen – the bedsheet beneath us rapidly turning a bright red.
‘Why am I bleeding?’ I said.
‘You’re OK,’ Daniel replied.
But he didn’t sound convinced. We got changed and he drove me to hospital where I was given a scan. Afterwards a consultant came to see me.
‘You’re bleeding from your cervix,’ he said.
‘Is my baby alive?’ I asked in between tears.
‘He’s fine,’ he replied.
‘I can’t take this,’ I said to Daniel. ‘This pregnancy is the most stressful thing I’ve ever been through.’
Then I turned to the doctor and said: ‘If worst comes to worst, don’t save me, save my baby.’
Two days later, the bleeding had stopped and I was allowed home. But once more I couldn’t relax, I was constantly on edge.
And I was right to be when I suffered another hemorrhage.
Once again I was checked over and told to go home.
I sat in my baby’s room, staring at the piles of tiny clothes we had ready for him. Then I turned to the changing unit Daniel had bought from Toys R Us that I couldn’t bear to take out of the box.
Will I ever become a mum? I thought.
Three weeks before my due date, I woke with a start to a strange popping sensation.
‘Daniel,’ I said, nudging him. ‘Wake up, my waters have broken.’
But seconds later we saw a mass of blood across the bed.
Daniel leapt up and helped me to the car. I grabbed four pillowcases on the way and by the time we’d got to hospital I’d filled them all with blood.
‘I’m going to pass out,’ I said, as I got out of the car.
Daniel scooped me into his arms, flopped me into a wheelchair and quickly pushed me inside.
‘My girlfriend’s bleeding,’ Daniel cried.
After an emergency scan, the doctor said: ‘We need to get the baby out.’
It was music to my ears.
Two days later, I was wheeled into theatre for a C-section. I looked across at Daniel who was dressed in scrubs as I felt pushing and tugging on my stomach.
All of a sudden a tiny baby was placed on my chest.
I gazed at him and gently kissed his head.
‘He’s gorgeous,’ I said.
Then I passed him to Daniel while I was stitched up.
He weighed 4lbs 5oz and we named him Jack.
That night, Jack was placed in an incubator next to my bed. I breastfed him with the help of the midwives and loved just watching him sleep.
I was eager to get home, but I was also relieved I was being looked after because I was in absolute agony.
‘We think you might have an infection in your stomach,’ a nurse said.
But numerous scans and tests showed I didn’t.
Just under two weeks later, I went home. Dan was a huge support, looking after me, making dinner and encouraging me to get outside.
I thought I’d love being a mum, but I felt anxious and jittery, and it was like I had a black cloud hanging over me.
When Jack was 12 weeks old, Daniel and I were snuggled up in bed when, for the first time in a long time, I found myself in the mood.
As Daniel and I kissed things heated up, but as soon as he went to have sex with me, I recoiled and burst into tears.
‘I can’t do it,’ I said.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
‘I’m too scared of bleeding again,’ I replied.
I felt awful for Daniel, it wasn’t his fault but I couldn’t bear the thought of him being inside me. I was terrified.
‘It’s no surprise you feel this way, you’ve been through so much,’ he said. ‘Maybe we should get you some counselling.’
Afterwards, while Daniel was fast asleep, I lay wide awake, my mind whirring. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, especially after our sex life had always been so good.
Over the following weeks, just thinking about getting intimate made me me feel sick, my hands tremble and my heart thump against my chest.
One day I was sitting on the sofa at our home in Fortuneswell, Portland, Dorset, when I turned to Daniel and said: ‘How would you feel if I let you have sex with other women?’
He looked at me, his mouth gaping open.
‘What?’ he said. ‘I could never do that.’
‘But I feel so guilty that I can’t fulfil your needs,’ I said.
‘We’re a family,’ Daniel said. ‘And we’re a couple who have been together four years. It would ruin everything.’
‘Not if I picked the women myself,’ I said.
Daniel didn’t look convinced.
‘No way,’ he said.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about my idea. In my mind, if we chose someone for him to have sex with, he would be happy and therefore I would be too.
Weeks later I mentioned it again.
‘I can’t do it Naomi,’ he said. ‘I love you, end of.’
Jack is now seven months old and I am struggling more than ever with the trauma of my pregnancy and my sex phobia.
I am receiving counselling from the community mental health team but I think it’s going to take a long time before I feel anywhere near normal again, let alone think about having sex.
I feel awful that our once-passionate relationship has become a celibate one and I worry that we will never be able to do it again, or have the second child we dream of.
I’m still trying to convince Daniel, 27, to have sex elsewhere. I love him so much, if not more than I ever have, I just want us to remain the strong couple that we’ve always been.