…in the waiting room for swimming lessons…
…talk turns to being “done.” As in not having any more kids. As in getting rid of baby stuff as your youngest outgrows it. I said I couldn’t imagine feeling that way. They looked at me as if I were crazy.
It’s not that I desire a dozen kids. It’s not that I think changing diapers and wiping bottoms or even teaching a child to read is particularly fun. It’s not that I want to be the center of the universe. It’s not that I crave the power or the responsibility of raising a human being from childhood to maturity. It’s not.
It’s that to me being “done” means declaring that I have no more room in my heart for another person. I’m out of love. The club is closed; the membership roster is full.
And it might also be that 8 pounds of the softest skin on earth curled and resting on my chest is the sweetest addiction.
So, naturally, talk turned to…vasectomies.
Apparently, there’s a waiting list here and men are scrambling to get on it. Sitting in a classroom is pretty low-impact, so the procedure (and the recovery) won’t cause them to miss much. After this school, most of these guys will be heading for Iraq or Afghanistan, and they won’t be able to do it there (and want to avoid any welcome home celebration surprises, I suppose).
“That’s not an option for you, is it?” one woman asked me.
I shook my head no, and said that even if it were, my husband would never do it. “Really?” someone else asked.
“My husband has a pretty low opinion of men who would have that done. He says if a woman doesn’t want to have kids, she should get herself fixed.”
“But the recovery is so much easier on a man,” she argued (obviously defending her own husband’s decision to do it).
I gave my best deer-in-the-headlights look. How could I explain that my husband would sooner have his testicles removed than kow-tow to the selfish demands of his wife? And it’s not that my husband thinks women should be popping out as many kids as possible. Trust me, he is much more willing than I to say: enough is enough, we’ve proved to God we’re open to life, let’s get on with our lives and do all those things that are difficult with little ones around…and while we’re getting rid of baby stuff, let’s get rid of maternity clothes and all those bigger sizes that my wife wears in between, and honey, if you’ve been holding off on cosmetic surgery until you’ve finished birthing babies, let’s go see the doctor…for you, honey, to make you feel better about yourself (but, do I get a say in the size and shape of any breast augmentation?)…and if you don’t think you need that, it’s fine by me, I love you no matter what.
My husband will be the first person to read this blog, and he’s going to kill me for that.
He does love me no matter what, but he initially fell in love with an eighteen year old who didn’t have stretch marks, spider veins or a droopy cleavage. He still sees that girl – thank goodness that love is blind – but he knows that I don’t.
So, Bill won’t be putting his name on the vasectomy list, even if it would put him closer to having a smokin’ hot wife, please, sweet baby Jesus in the manger (a joke for anyone who suffered through Talladega Nights). And even though he passes judgement (not moral judgement, rather cojones judgement) on men who have the procedure done, I don’t. It’s tough to argue in favor of retaining your fertility in an age that thinks having children is burdensome.
I’m grateful to have the Catholic Church to use as an excuse for indulging in the pleasure of a large family.
Reit This Way 
Not that I’m advocating any sort of sterilization – I’m not – but back about 20 years or more, your waiting-room friend would have been correct. Now, not so much.In 1950, after my grandmother had her fourth baby in six years, she said to her doctor something to the effect of “Every time I look at Art [my grandfather] I get pregnant.” Her doctor replied with, “Well, Sally, it’s much easier to fix Art than it is to fix you.”That same man recounted the story to his son-in-law [my father] in the late ’70s after I came along, the mere third baby in seven years. My father reacted like your husband did – absolutely not. So my mother got her tubes tied.However, now that they can do a laporoscopic tubal ligation, I have been told that the recovery is much easier, and much more comparable to a vasectomy. Again – not condoning either – just taking issue with her facts.Incidentally, your husband sounds like a man it would be easy to respect. Just had to tell you that. 🙂
Good for you, and good for your husband! It always amazes me how readily, and easily people talk about their vasectomies – not really sure that’s what God intended when he created man and woman for us to surgically sterilize ourselves. But we live in a world today where people don’t want to be constrained – either by having another pregnancy, or restraining their “activities” for a period of time each month.
Bravo to you for speaking up. It isn’t always easy to do that when you are in a crowd of women who feel differently. Just last evening, I was at a town picnic and the woman I was sitting next to noticed another woman who was pregnant (for the 9th time, God forbid!). She said “Give me a break – enough already!” That SO irritates me so I just looked at her and said “what?! I just love big families” The woman I was sitting next to was dumb founded that I would say that. (For I only have 3 children.) Little does she know, I would love to have 9 (yikes, did I just say that?) Anyway, my point is – thank you for speaking up. We live in such a selfish society, that considers children to be burdensome and don’t truly value that they are precious gifts from God.
All that kind of thinking is the same kind that leads people to believe that if there’s a child a “significant distance” after the others, then this last one is an “accident.” Oooo, we scandalized them when we said that Little Brother was no accident.Why is it OK to “fix” what is not broken, but it is not OK to welcome more children?
Yeah, it really bothers me when people get disgusted by other people’s family size. I love to see big families, especially ones bigger than mine. I think it is great. I’m know there are tons of people who think my family is obscene, but they’re all adorable, bahave well and will likely grow up to pay taxes and work hard. What’s wrong with that?
Amen!
You know, Carl and I have been doing that delicate dance with ovulation abstinence which leaves us living basically as friends rather than lovers because we are Catholic and therefore will not do any type of sterilization (we get these bodies back you know! I want all of my parts and his parts in case having children is heaven is painfree and guiltfree!) But the other day I said that I would rather have a #5 than keep living with rules of ovulation and keeping our love at arm’s length. Plus, babies are so chubby and cuddly and they smell good and they don’t talk or complain or pee on the toilet seat-if they came out as 4 year olds, well then I would have bought twin beds long ago!
<>I’m grateful to have the Catholic Church to use as an excuse for indulging in the pleasure of a large family. <>Well, I never quite thought of it that way, but, AMEN!
Yes, Cris, I’ve got a “love child” or two for exactly that reason!!
I have an almost 10 year old, an almost 6 year old, and a newborn. People are always commending me for “good family planning” and “great spacing.” I was infertile for three years and then lost six pregnancies in another three year span. None of this was MY plan! I know it was (and is) God’s plan for us. Funny the things people will say to complete strangers.Kelly
I’ve stopped going to the playground because these sorts of disgussions make me kind of sick. We have a high population of tube tied, tummy tucked, breast augmented moms at our park…oh and a never ending tidal wave of scheduled inductions and planned c-sections. We are at the momment, using NFP to avoid. I’m aprehensive about having another right now for several reasons, but I know it’s all the much better to avoid the natural way, then the ungodly way, so no tubals of any kind here either.