Boobs Are for Babies, Sleep is Non-Existent: Let’s Talk About Sex Postpartum

(Because nobody told you that libido doesn’t just “come back” after birth)

The baby’s fed. You’ve finally showered. You’re leaking milk, exhausted, and trying to remember the last time you slept more than three hours in a row.

And someone- your partner, the internet, your own inner voice- thinks now might be a good time to start “bringing sex back.”

Let’s be real: for many new parents (especially the birth parent), desire doesn’t just disappear postpartum- it goes into witness protection. And yet, nobody’s really talking about it. Not properly.

Class is in session… Let’s talk about what actually happens to your libido after birth, and why it’s okay if sex feels like the last thing on your mind.

Biologically, your body is in recovery- not in heat

After birth, estrogen and progesterone plummet. If you’re breastfeeding, prolactin goes up and estrogen stays low- both of which suppress libido and vaginal lubrication.

Add to that:

  • Pelvic trauma or tearing

  • C-section recovery

  • Hormonal mood shifts

  • Vaginal dryness, soreness, or even fear of pain

And while most doctors offer a technical all-clear around six weeks postpartum, that doesn't mean you need to “get back on the horse” then, or ever, if it doesn't feel right. Your body, your pace. Always.

Psychologically, you’re becoming someone new

Birth doesn’t just change your body—it reshapes your sense of self. You’re still you, but also… not quite. You're evolving. And that shift can feel expansive, empowering, and also disorienting at times.

There may be moments of deep connection, awe, and fierce love—and also moments where you feel foreign in your own skin, stretched thin, or unsure where your sensual self fits in.

Body image might shift.
Postpartum depression or anxiety may rise.
You might grieve the spontaneity and freedom you once had—and that doesn’t make you ungrateful.

Desire needs space to breathe, to imagine, to play. And early parenthood is often the opposite—it’s full-body survival mode. That doesn’t mean desire is gone. Just that it may need time, care, and permission to resurface.

This isn’t just postpartum- it’s the small-child years too

Let’s bust a myth right now: this isn’t just a “few months” of weirdness. Libido disruption can last well into the years of parenting small children.

You’re constantly touched: tiny hands, breastfeeding, co-sleeping, back-carrying, toddler clinging- it can leave you feeling touched out. Like you’ve got nothing left to give your partner because your body already belongs to someone else all day.

Leading relationship psychotherapist, Esther Perel, has famously said that many mothers have their need for emotional intimacy met by their children- through kisses, cuddles, shared moments- which can (understandably) leave them with less desire to seek it in a sexual context.

Your bandwidth is limited. And when your needs for closeness are being fulfilled in non-sexual ways, your erotic self may go dormant- not because it's gone, but because it's on pause.

So how do you navigate sex after baby, and during early motherhood?

This isn’t about “getting your sex life back”- it’s about gently rebuilding it, in a way that works for the person you are now.

Here’s what that can look like:

  • Redefine intimacy. It doesn’t have to mean penetration or climax. Start with closeness, touch, even just shared moments without pressure.

  • Give yourself full permission to not want sex. This is valid. This is normal. This is temporary- or not. You don’t owe anyone a timeline.

  • Talk to your partner. Resentment and unspoken expectations kill desire faster than throw-up and sleep deprivation.

  • Prioritise rest where you can. Exhaustion is one of the biggest blockers of libido. Support, naps, time alone- prioritise and ask for it!

  • Reconnect with your own body. Gentle movement, touch, and even solo pleasure, if and when you feel ready, can help build safety in your body again.

Sex during the early parenting years isn’t about reclaiming your “pre-baby self.”
It’s about tuning into who you are now. Letting that be enough. Trusting that desire, when ready, can grow from that place- not in spite of it.

You're not broken. You're mothering.

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