Fifty Shades of Mutual Anxiety

Post-Baby Brain, and Body

They were each about to explode — her from repressed nerves, him from sexual tension. The six-week mark was nearly up, and Christian was more than ready to be intimate with his wife again, though he sensed Ana tense up after every lascivious and lewd suggestion he'd made telling her his plans for her once they got the go-ahead from Dr. Greene to make love again.

"What's wrong baby? Tell me, please," he urged when he felt her body stiffen in his arms after reminding her that there was only one day left in their coital countdown.

"Nothing. I just can't keep track of how many bottles I've pumped for Phoebe," she replied, rummaging through the freezer. "I thought pregnancy brain was supposed to go away after pregnancy but I guess I was wrong," she muttered, feeling like an idiot not for the baby bottles but for bottling up her feelings.

For a week now, she'd been holding back on her husband, too embarrassed to share her silly fears about having sex again. Get a grip Ana — this man has practically lived inside you for the last seven years!

Her refusal to open up was gnawing away at him. What the fuck was eating her, he wondered. It couldn't be insecurity about her post-pregnancy body, he reasoned. After Teddy's birth, she was needlessly worried about her C-section scar and her weight gain. But this time around, there was no scar and she'd lost most of the pregnancy pounds, much to Christian's dismay.

Is it me? Does she not want me any more?

No, he reassured himself. They'd done anything and everything other than penetration in the last few weeks and she wasn't complaining.

So what the fuck is it?

For her part, Ana was just as insatiable in the sack as her husband, but she couldn't get one niggling doubt out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried to shove it aside.

Instead of owning up to it, she reverted to her patented diversion technique: use the kids as a shield. Ana slipped out of Christian's grasp to play with Teddy, who was too busy with his trucks to pay attention to his canoodling parents.

"I'm going to have a quick workout with Bastille. I'll see you for dinner," he said, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of sex or lack of honesty from his wife, but he needed a punching bag to vent his frustrations.

Ana sighed, vowing to speak with Christian after dinner, only to pass out from fatigue after breastfeeding Phoebe.

After putting Teddy to bed, Christian was in his study, still wound up tight despite his punishing workout. Originally he had planned on breaking their six-week wait a day early and seducing Ana tonight. He had envisioned taking her by surprise pretty much on every surface of the house. But instead he found himself pacing the large room, adorned with family photos, as he agonized over why his wife was recoiling from him. That's it, he decided. We're going to hash this out tonight. Fuck it, I'm fucking her tonight as well.

Barging into their bedroom, he found her tiny sleeping form curled up on the bed, snoring soundly. Doesn't snore my ass, he thought as he nevertheless admired his wife, the moonlight illuminating her delicate features.

He exhaled and brought the baby monitor over to his side of the bed. She was exhausted so he'd deal with Phoebe's ritual 3 a.m. wake-up call. Shucking off his shirt and pants he crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around Ana, hugging her tightly as he kissed her hair. "I love you baby. So much. But we're fucking in the morning Mrs. Grey," he whispered in her ear, hoping she heard him in her dreams.