It was a decision neither of us made lightly — do I get my tubes tied or does my husband get a vasectomy?
I could have easily had a tubal ligation. After all, I had a planned C-section with my second pregnancy last summer, my husband and I knew it would be our last child, and my health insurance deductible had been more than met for the year.
Still, I was done doing stuff to my body — five pregnancies and two babies later, it was enough. There was also a tiny part of me that worried, too, about what it would mean if something happened during childbirth or shortly thereafter. Yeah, I knew I wasn’t going to have it done, but I still felt a little guilty about it anyway.
Fortunately my husband also didn’t want me worrying about a tubal ligation during the pregnancy and birth process, so he stepped up to the plate. Or the knife. Or, rather, he is today. Today is V-Day.
He’s been a really good sport about it.
It’s hard to think of a vasectomy as a romantic thing, but it’s a gesture I don’t take lightly. He knew I couldn’t go back on the pill — first, because I didn’t want to, and second, because my OBGYN had concerns with me going back on the pill knowing I have a clotting disorder. I was most definitely not sticking anything into my arms. And we are collectively not fans of condoms.
We’ve had some moments in the past several weeks where we look at our girls and marvel at how we make ‘em so beautiful and sweet. But instead of considering another one, we’ve pledged instead to just remember even more often to appreciate the ones we have already.
So it came down to a vasectomy. It’s not like he’s looking forward to it, but he doesn’t really seem to mind. We went in for a consultation late last fall. The doctor advised us (quite morbidly, I think) to wait until our baby daughter was at least 6 months old (in case anything happened to her. Ack!).
Truth be told, he’s doing it today because we just didn’t get around to it until now. I’m hoping and praying he’s not one of the small percentage of men who suffers from chronic pain afterward, or that, heaven forbid, the whole thing doesn’t take (you know it happens).
After all, someone as selfless as my sweet husband deserves only the best. And a bag of frozen peas, because the doctor said that will help, too.
How did you handle permanent birth control when the time came, or what are you considering?
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