Well, it’s official.
My sperm bank has closed for business.
Forever. Seems like just
yesterday that the blog's arrival in cyberspace had its premise based on a discussion of my
swimmers: http://www.waitingforbabyt.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html.
That’s right, my vasectomy completed about an hour ago. Henceforth, the little guys will be swimming in
a pool that no longer has any exit chute.
Apparently, they’ll snorkel around in circles going forward until
becoming reabsorbed into the filtration system. Visions of a garden hose flailing aimlessly in my scrotum keep playing like a projection reel in my head.
Sitting here on my bed with an ice back over my tender cajones, I have absolutely no regrets. My
party of five just feels right. I have
no inkling or desire to expand our family’s population. I know better than to say never, but my
trifecta of children suits me just fine.
After the kids were in bed last night, THE WIFE said, “You’ll never guess what Greta
said to me today.” “What?” I asked. She said, “I want to have another brother.” THE WIFE asked, “Why?” Greta apparently said something like, “There
are two girls with me and Tilly, so there should be another boy with Gus to
make it equal.” I laughed probably too
quickly and loudly because I detected a look in THE WIFE right away.
“Don’t tell me you want one more,” I questioned with my
eyebrows raised. THE WIFE kinda shrugged
and said she wouldn’t rule it out. My
eyes bulged as my brain branded THE WIFE temporarily insane.
Meanwhile, my own level of sanity is the closest to normal that
I’ve experienced in the last two years since Tilly was born. THE WIFE and I are in a really good
place. The kids and I are in a really
good place. I feel like we are finally
ready to rejoin society as a semi-functional unit.
Hell, I might even consider going to a restaurant with the whole family. (Probably a Panera or Papa Gino’s only, but
still…)
I actually experience relief and joy when I walk in the door
to my house after work now. A few months ago, I’m
ashamed to admit that dread predominated most of my commutes home. Back then, it seemed like every entrance into the house was greeted by some fit or fits of hysteria before I could even take off my shoes. Today, I might encounter someone
mid-meltdown but my psyche has adapted so it’s no big deal if that’s the
case.
What has changed? What’s been the biggest difference? Honestly, I don’t really know and I don’t
really care. If I had to guess, it’s a
combination of things. Every day, the
kids creep forward incrementally towards being that much more independent. Every day, I creep forward incrementally
towards being a little less selfish and a little more of a real man. Communication between THE WIFE and I seems to
improve and strengthen with every day.
Would it be the end of the world if we ended up having
another baby? Well, for one – I would
definitely need a permanent second job.
Seriously. (Please tell anyone
considering law school to go into the military instead.) Two, THE WIFE and I aren’t spring chickens
anymore – forty, gulp, is just around the corner. I discovered my first gray hairs last
week. Three, THE WIFE has had three
c-sections and I’m not sure how safe it is to have one more. Four, we are only four years away from not
having to pay for day care. Five, I am
going to toilet paper the front yard of my house the day when Gus and Tilly are
out of diapers. Six, we are only about
ten years away from sleeping past 7 a.m. on a weekend. I’ll spare
you from the rant by concluding with this: I’m content.
Will Greta, Gus, and Tilly ever have one more sibling in
the future? Is it possible THE WIFE and
I may find the urge to add one more personality to our organized chaos? Of course.
We’ve always been open to the possibility of adoption. But, for now, I love my family as is. If the clock ain't broke, don't fix it.
