Evie, 37 If my ovulation window falls on a Wednesday and I’ve had a terrible work week, I’ll initiate sex regardless, but it won’t come from a place of lust Trying to get pregnant is not terribly romantic. Jim and I have been in the baby mindset for six months, which means we have sex constantly, but the sex is weirdly regimented. I’ve started to think about Jim’s orgasms as potential opportunities, and I get panicky if I miss them. I pre-plan the sequencing of our sex positions in my head so Jim will definitely ejaculate when he is inside me, but we have kissed goodbye to spontaneity. I’m vigilant about capturing Jim’s first ejaculation of the day, as apparently that sperm is the best quality. I’ve started to think of a blowjob as a waste of seed, which is sad because I am amazing at blowjobs. Our sex life used to be so intuitive. I met Jim three years ago and I was struck by how chemically right it felt just to stand near him. His overriding personality trait is gentleness. The first night we slept together he asked me to sit on his face, which is pretty dirty and bold, but he made it sound like the most natural and romantic request in the world. Sex with him feels so light. It is tender, but playful. But now we’re trying for a baby, sex is less impulsive. If my ovulation window falls on a Wednesday and I’ve had a terrible work week, I will initiate sex regardless, but it won’t come from a place of lust. Sometimes I think every couple has a bank of sexual frisson, and every time you have sex because you have to, and not because you want to, it takes something out of the bank. Perhaps for every functional shag we have, I need to buy a pair of fancy knickers to rebalance things. Or book us a weekend away. In the last few weeks Jim and I have made the conscious decision to take the pressure off. Two months in a row I was convinced I was pregnant, and finding out I wasn’t was tough. So while we’re still trying, I’m putting less mental energy into it. Before, I was wearing a temperature sensor on my arm every night in bed, but I’ve decided to take it off, and give up my obsessive tracking. I am thinking less about seed and more about orgasms – which translates to more blowjobs. Jim, 39 Sex became something we had to do because we got pinged by an app Evie is unfailingly honest in bed, sometimes bluntly so. If I’m fingering her in a way that isn’t giving her maximum pleasure she’ll tell me outright. It’s liberating to be with someone who is so clear about what she wants. In my last relationship, I felt too afraid to even suggest a new position because I knew my ex would read it as a slight on her lovemaking skills – and I was equally frightened of being criticised. But Evie makes asking for what you want look so easy. Evie’s openness has made the last few months easier to deal with. We talk frankly about our disappointment at not being pregnant yet. Evie has had a fertility test and the doctors have confirmed she is able to conceive, so I have a worry in the back of my mind that something is amiss with me. Once we hit the 12-month mark I’ll get my sperm tested. Meanwhile, I’m trying to work on my pre-sex stress levels. It’s a vicious circle: anxiety can affect sperm quality, so worrying about not conceiving could stop you conceiving. We’ve painted our bedroom a lovely dark green, so it’s a soothing sanctuary, and we start each session with a massage and light candles. Sometimes we play Wordle together immediately before having sex because I find it calms me down. We used to be in thrall to the fertility tracker on Evie’s phone, but we’ve given up on that kind of pre-planning. Sex switched from being something we did for pure pleasure to something we had to do because we got pinged by an app. Since we stopped putting pressure on ourselves to squeeze it in midweek, sex has gone back to being a lengthy, weekend affair that we really take our time over. We still play Wordle right before we do it, though. Even though we’re both much calmer, that has become a regular fixture of our pre-sex routine.