Last month, my husband decided to get a vasectomy. Yes, it’s true! He’s officially on a mission to shoot blanks from now on, and honestly, I’m perfectly fine with it. While I sat in the waiting room during his “procedure” (a minor outpatient thing that I’ve been urging him to do for a year), I experienced a whirlwind of emotions that could probably justify a visit to a therapist. After all, it’s a big deal—goodbye to those newborn cuddles! So, let me share the thoughts that crossed my mind during this pivotal moment.
- Finally! Can he be any slower to make this appointment? I’ve been nudging him since I gave birth last January! How many reminders does it take to get him to pick up the phone? I know I wasn’t thrilled about my prenatal visits, but I managed. And let’s not forget the labor part! I’m sure he’s just been hesitating out of fear that something catastrophic would happen. Wait—what exactly are the risks? Google search: vasectomy procedures.
- No more birth control pills! Hallelujah! It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders! I won’t miss the hassle of taking that little pill every night. The hormonal side effects were no joke—crazy moods, acne, weight gain, and diminished libido. Who needs that? I’m throwing those pills away tonight!
- Will he actually complain about discomfort? I’ve endured the pain of delivering three babies—three times needing stitches in the same area, and without any pain relief. The first time, I couldn’t sit comfortably for two weeks! So, forgive me if I don’t want to hear him whine about a little soreness. At least he can still run without worrying about bladder control issues, right?
- Goodbye, phantom baby kicks! You know that eerie feeling of thinking you’re still pregnant? I won’t miss those moments of panic when I feel something moving that isn’t there anymore. No more wondering if I might have a surprise baby!
- What if it doesn’t take? This thought keeps nagging at me. What’s the success rate of a vasectomy, anyway? I’ve heard too many stories about “oops” babies born post-snip. I should probably ask the doctor, but I don’t want to sound paranoid.
- What would a fourth child have been like? Would it be a boy or a girl? I love coming up with baby names. I’ll miss parking in the expectant mother spots at the store—those are the best! I ponder this while wondering if I could sneak into the procedure room and shout, “Stop! Let’s have one more!”
- Do we have frozen peas and Advil? How painful is this going to be? Will he need a wheelchair? I definitely should have researched this more thoroughly. I vaguely recall some peas in the freezer—though they may be hidden behind the ice cream sandwiches. Now I’m starting to feel hungry.
- Is our family really complete? I mean, I think so. I feel content with our three beautiful children, who all sleep through the night! I can’t face those sleepless nights again. After all, we had to upgrade to a minivan! We’re definitely done, right? Those nights were exhausting, but also so rewarding.
- Yes, they were. Yes, they were. Yes, they were.
Ultimately, this moment is bittersweet. While I’m excited about the future, I can’t help but reflect on the journey we’ve taken together. If you’re interested in more about home insemination, check out this excellent resource on IVF Babble and if you’re looking to boost fertility, be sure to visit Make a Mom for great supplements.
Summary:
My husband’s vasectomy stirred a mix of emotions, from relief to nostalgia about our family dynamics. While I felt a sense of finality, I also reminisced about the joys of having children and the challenges of parenting. As we move forward, I’m excited about what’s next!