My husband is the introverted type, so out of respect for his privacy, I'd like to talk to you about his vasectomy.
We put it off longer than we should have. I guess the ideal time might have been between baby no. 2 and baby no. 3, but we're super happy with the one that slid underneath the closing door, all Indiana Jones-style: "Waaaaiiiiit you have one moooore!" But at some point you have to just make the arbitrary decision that you're done meeting new offspring.
So we finally made the call that it was time to turn the spigot off. An informal survey revealed that getting a vasectomy was the birth control method of choice among the vast majority of older parents in our circle. It's minimally-invasive, complications are rare, and (who knew?) our insurance covered it. Seemed as though the only prerequisite was a few days' freedom to convalesce on the couch and several bags of frozen peas.
We described the procedure to our children, the youngest of whom is five, figuring they'd naturally wonder what was going to make Daddy walk around the house in a half-crouch in a Vicodin-created fugue state. We spent some time describing the vas deferens, and the special seeds that help Mama's egg become a baby, carefully playing up the benefits (no additional sibling rivalry!) and downplaying the discomfort (it won't hurt more than getting a shot).
Yet still, the very next time I brought my youngest, Molly (who's five) out in public, she announced to any and all within earshot: "My daddy's getting his penis cut off." I protested with nervous giggles the first few times, but after awhile took great satisfaction in merely raising my eyebrows and glaring silently.
In honor of the procedure, my husband's coworkers served two types of cheese balls with carrots and celery sticks, artfully arranged. Oh: and mixed nuts.
I kind of assumed I'd be on The Pill until menopause rendered my womb a windswept desert nurturing nothing but a bleached rock outcropping and occasional tumbleweed, but lo! Verdant and lavishly fertile, and already relieved of the threat of childbearing. It's a medical miracle.
I'd like to chalk up the following unsuspected side effect to the array of painkillers my husband was on when he came home from the surgery: when I arrived from taking our Molly to her first dance class, I sat next to him, all propped with pillows and sipping water through a straw, and flipped through the photos I'd snapped on my phone. Molly's leotard and tutu are far from new -- like all of her clothes, they're hand-me-downs several times over. So the crotch hangs to mid-thigh and the tutu is torn and hanging low on one side. There's a small rip in one knee of the black tights. At first glance there is nothing pathetic about this picture; she's a happy girl, hands on hips, looking off to the side. She has the sort of hardscrabble disposition you would expect from the youngest of three. But of our children, she is the only dancer. Music moves her physically. My husband slid past this picture and then slid back and regarded it silently for a moment. I felt the wonder and grief behind his simple words: "That's my last baby."
And in a flash: my own times of bed confinement, postponing early labor. Cups of crushed ice and marshmallows, surer signs of pregnancy than a positive test for me. Vernix-covered little red crying faces, one after the other, lain against my chest. There was the cutting of the umbilical cord, always a bittersweet moment, giving that baby over to the world and all its variables, the concept of protection an illusion. And then there is this last cut. A "relatively pain-free procedure." And just like that, we say goodbye to all of it, say with certainty that we are done, we are parents to these three and no more, no longer getting to rewind the tape with each newborn, to relive that particular kind of falling in love.
http://allhands-ondeck.blogspot.com/2012/04/for-married-couples-importance-of-being.html
Children are such a blessing. Why would anyone want to permanently close the door to new children?
Even more puzzling is the choice of self-mutilation in order to avoid having more children.
Corbyn isn't advocating anything dirty in telling her children the truth; she is allowing them to learn about the human body and about 1) why Larry will be resting for a few days, and 2) why there won't be any more biological children. That's education!
I am pregnant with my third child, and am planning a home birth. Unless I happen to have the baby while my children are sleeping, they are bound to see at least part of my labor. So you know what we're doing? Letting them watch videos of other babies being born at home. It's not earth-shattering; it's human life. Kids are smart beings, and will rise to just about any occasion if you let them.
Good on you, Corbyn and Larry.
So, when our baby was 6 weeks old, he had a vasectomy. I supported him, but I also mourned those never to be born children we might have had. Intellectually, it was the correct decision, but emotionally, it's hard for someone who once dreamed of a house full children. The hardest part to accept was that ALL of my children are girls. I love them dearly and wouldn't replace any of them - but I will NEVER have a baby boy now.
As for telling children what's going on and why dad's going to be in pain for a few days - What were you thinking?? It's a simple thing to say dad's going to have a surgery and his crotch will be sore for a few days. Later, if they ask why there are only 3 of them, you tell them. All of our children know that hubby had a vasectomy - but they didn't when it was done. They didn't need to know.
About 2.5 years later we had what may be our last(my wife is 43 now), child number 6, a long awaited boy. This one is a real rascal. Only our 2nd boy out of six, my wife treats him like a prince.
Really, now that I think about it, I need two more boys to balance things out. Not sure if I'm ready to trade in for a younger model yet, in my neighborhood the guys don't seem to hit that stage until 45 or so, I have a couple more years. Give my prospects time to reach closer to a legal age, anyway.
Our 20th anniversary is coming up, maybe I can knock her up then, slip one more out before the factory goes out of business... Yeah, not getting my tubes tied anytime soon. :)
We live in AZ, were married very young and our first two children were covered by the state health insurance program. After both of those births the state and the doctors pushed my wife very hard to have her tubes tied, adding that it would be covered free of charge. It's easy to think that "well I have fresh baby right now to take care of, maybe it's the right thing." All you really want in that moment is to take care of your new baby, so your very vulnerable to that suggestion. We were not the smartest young couple in the world, but I am happy we didn't fall for that...
(*Unless of course you decide to try to tie some spaghetti ;)
Giving out information in real time....is REAL life. It is the truth. Life does not wait until you "understand" before it doles out its joyful cruelty. It is in the living it, in the having the truth at hand, that one (child or elder) CAN come to understand. This, is parental evolution. Not 1950's under the rug taboo subject time. Life. Is. Anything else is just a lie.
Well written, hilarious, and bittersweet account of what you went through together as a family. Kudos to your husband for his bravery, his sense of chivalry, and his sensitivity. Oh, and extra kudos to him for loving you AND your amazing sense of humor. Blessings!
~Mal~
and remember less is more with little children. informing them should be developmentally appropriate, not some misconstrued aspect of enlightenment.
Or, alternately, parents might be all for explaining contraceptive choice to their children, yet still prefer to keep the specifics of their own choices private.
Or, they might be of the mind that while kids are curious for, and deserve, honest infomation abuot sex...the same kids may not actually welcome nitty gritty details about their own particular parents.
I do see your point that lying to your children is not a good idea, by the way.