The second I found out I was pregnant with baby #3, I simultaneously knew this would be the last baby for us. After all, we were supposed to be done after two and this was a surprise pregnancy, so there was no doubt in my or my husband’s mind that this was an exciting turn of events, but would definitely be the last.
I don’t know about other families, but for us, three kids is TOUGH. Juggling parenthood, working, and running a household among other things seems near impossible a majority of the time. Things seemed much more manageable with two. But, of course, we wouldn’t trade any of them or how our life has played out for the world. {Note: I say that because I mean it, not because it’s what you’re “supposed to say” in these types of narratives}.
Just a few short weeks after our third installment entered the world, we all loaded into the car and dropped my husband off at the urologist. I blew him a kiss, and he welcomed his thirtieth birthday with beloved gift of a vasectomy. It was not bittersweet, there were no emotions {other than a few days of whining from my husband}, and we were ultimately relieved that we could move forward with our life; the pregnancy chapters completed.
I’ve never though twice about that decision. Until now, that is…two years since completing our brood and sealing the deal.
In June of this year, our youngest offspring turned two. Although we haven’t been able to kick diapers just yet, right around her birthday week, I had the stark realization that she was moving into toddler years and we were DONE with BABIES, something our life had been almost constantly consumed with for the past seven years.
She is sassy, talkative, independent, and quite self sufficient for a tiny human. She is everything a baby is not. This hit me much harder than I ever thought it would. I thought I would be celebrating the day we were officially out of the helpless baby stages.
I realized this was it. No more squishy, snugly newborns. No more sounds of sweet baby cries and coos in this house. No more swaddling or bottle feeding, or witnessing first steps. A new chapter essentially and I wasn’t okay with it.
Had we jumped the gun and gotten snip-happy?
Did we seal our fate too soon? Reversals are expensive and not guaranteed.
ALL. THE. EMOTIONS.
These feelings lasted a few days. And again, I was shocked I was even having them.
I think that, like everything else in our progressing adult lives, things get emotional from time to time and we question our decisions. I am not a religious person by any means, but I do live my life by the aphorism of “what’s meant to be will be.” And after a few days of wallowing in the maybe I want another baby cloud, I came to my senses.
Our family is perfect. And if I am being honest, there is zero room for another human being in our life. It only took a few epic meltdowns, some bed-wetting, and two sleepless nights with summer storms and scared toddlers, for the light bulb to turn on.
NOPE. I. AM. GOOD.
We are GREAT.
I wanted to share this experience so that other parents who are on the path to seal their family’s census, know that these feelings may come about in the future, and it’s okay. Ask anyone who knows me and you will find that there was no one more sure about this permanent birth control option than me. It was and still is the relief of the century!
Questions about the vasectomy process from a mom’s perspective? COMMENT below!
My husband had his vasectomy on nearly the same day I had my 6 week visit for #3. We had zero regrets. Then her 2nd birthday rolled around and we both wanted another and briefly entertained the torture of a reversal. But then we realized we always went for the next at 2 years old and we gave it a few months and let it pass. She’s 4 now and we are happy with our 3. Every time a friend/cousin/Facebook acquaintance announces a pregnancy I let out a huge sigh of relief it’s isn’t me!!