The numbers game.

I've been keeping track of how (in)frequently V and I have sex for some time now. It's not just for libido-tracking purposes, it's also because we are supposedly trying to conceive a child.

The statistics are weird. My maths may be off.

Since I began keeping count (February) we have had penis-in-vagina sex 14 times in 168 days.

The average would appear to be once every 12 days. How can this be? Once every 12 days seems like a sex heaven to me now, even though I would gladly do it every single day, at least once, given the opportunity. It certainly doesn't feel like every 12 days.

The shortest gap is two days, in June, when we managed to get it on a whopping three whole times (whoo!). This, along with the odd five-and-six day gaps, must have brought the average way down.

The longest dry spell, broken last Friday at my absolute insistence, was 45 days. Of sheer hell. I would have thought that this would push the average back up again, but the bog-standard two-or-three week gaps seem to have cushioned the blow.

What's got me mathsing it up is my ovulation. Having just been knocked back for a lunchtime baby-making quickie, seeing as we are both off work at just the right time of the month, I started thinking about how many chances I actually have left to get pregnant.

At a generous estimate (and assuming I am healthily fertile and not due an early menopause or any similar fertility-scuppering nasties) I have five years of reasonable fertility left in me. As I now know (yeah, thanks, sex ed, for not making this clear until I actually needed the information), there are only about two days each month when pregnancy is likely to occur.

Five years x 12 periods/year = 60 chances to get pregnant
60 periods x two fertile days = 120 days in which to get pregnant

Every time he denies me sex at a fertile time, he robs me of one of those 60 chances that I have left to be a mother.

I've just laid out the mathematical facts to him. He says that's not a helpful way to think about it. Not helpful to whom? Sure, it's not helpful to me in that when I think about it I want to cry. It's helpful in that I know what I'm dealing with.

It's not helpful to him because if he knows the facts, he knows that he can't deny that he is robbing me, not only of my right to a healthy sex life, but of my dream of being a mother.

But even that, it seems, is not motivation enough for him to get off his arse and fuck me.

Illogical thoughts from a supposedly logical man.

Two conversations, throughout both of which I sobbed uncontrollably.

Conversation one:

V: Every time you're affectionate with me I feel like you want it to turn sexual. I worry that you don't actually love me, you just want me for sex.

B: If I just wanted you for sex I would have left you a long time ago.

::pause::

V: I suppose.

B: It's precisely because I love you so much that this is so difficult. I'm still with you because I love you, I want us to stay together and I want to fix this. I want to have a sex life with you, because I love you.

::pause::

V: I suppose.

::pause::

B: To me, when you love someone, you want to have sex with them, because that's what bonds you together, that's what makes it a relationship rather than a friendship. In refusing to do so, it feels like you're telling me you don't love me, you are pushing me away, telling me you don't love me, and destroying the bond between us.

::pause::

And if we split up because you won't have sex, you'll wind up telling yourself you were right all along about me just wanting you for sex. You'll tell yourself you've proven yourself right, even though the reason I am still here is because I love you so much, not because I'm just after sex.

V: I suppose.

Conversation two:

B: I feel like I've been duped. You pretended you wanted me, you pretended you wanted sex with me, you pretended you loved sex. You enter into a monogamous relationship with someone with the understanding that you will have a sexual relationship with them. It's part of the deal. And now I don't have a sexual relationship with anyone but myself.

::silence::

What can I do? Is there anything I can do to help?

::silence::

Do you want to have sex with other people?

V: No.

B: Can I?

V: I wouldn't feel comfortable with that. If you want to have sex with other people we should probably just split up.

B: But I want to have sex with someone! I want it to be you! And you won't do anything! It's like having something blocking an airway, like I can't breathe. There's a whole part of my personality that can't be expressed without you letting me express it. It's cruel.

V: I know. I'm sorry.

B: I know you're sorry. But what are you going to do?

V: I don't know.