Steamy Caesarean Romance

My husband showers me while the baby sleeps. He kneels down and begins washing me from the calves up. My entire body is tender from contractions, emergency surgery and Mastitis. His hands slide to my breast and he kneads my infected milk ducts. Then he rinses me off and kneels down to towel away the water collecting around the incision. My skin still puckers, gaps open beneath the staples and gives an occasional glimpse of my fleshy core. He runs his tongue right under my staples, hip to hip. My milk lets down, a thin creamy spray. The milk I've pumped for until my nipples cracked and caved into themselves rushing down the drain. He reaches for a mouth wash cup to catch it, refusing to let something so precious slip away.

On the site www.newparent.com the question was raised in the comment section directed to women who breastfeed all the time, "How does your husband feel? Honestly."

Honestly? Well…… hubby and I don't have a traditional romance. Our bed is scattered with legos not rose petals but there isn't enough breast milk in the world to dampened our love life. I would tell you my husband's EXACT words but he is very blunt and more than a little scandalous and this isn't that kind of blog. He can still make me feel sexy despite my Go Go Gadget breasts and my Frankenstein scar. There is a level of intimacy and sensuality between us that has absolutely nothing to do with my milk production.

If you would like to see the article that prompted the question and read all the comments just CLICK HERE