Expectations

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I finally had a talk with the hubs last night about a request I’ve had in my had for a while now.  I have come to the decision that I don’t want any more kids, so I”ve asked him to consider getting a vasectomy.  He asked if I was sure I didn’t want another baby and I said yes.  So he agreed, a bit reluctantly.  I’m not sure if it’s the procedure itself or if it’s the fact that we won’t be having another baby that upset him.

As far as having more kids, it’s not a decision I came upon lightly.  I did want a third, sort of.  For a while, I thought of baby #3 as a definite.  The idea of never seeing two pink lines again made me sad.  I wanted to feel another baby moving around inside of me.  I wanted to know what labor feels like and to hopefully try for a VBAC.  I thought it would be great to bring a baby home and actually know how to take care of it, instead of how it was with the twins where I was so completely unsure of myself.  I thought, this time around, I’d be an expert!

But as time passes, and the space between my last pregnancy and now gets bigger, the more I realize that none of those are good enough reasons to bring another person into our family.  Nowhere on that list was I want another child.  Plain and simple.  I don’t think I want another child because our family feels complete.

That brings me to my husband.  He does want another child.  The problem with that is, he is not the one to go through a pregnancy and he is not the one who is home full time, taking care of a baby.  The twins are going on three years old, which means they start pre-K next fall.  I will finally be able to start working more and helping with our finances, so maybe we won’t have to live paycheck to paycheck anymore.  If we add another baby, that gets put off for another three or four years and the expenses only increase.

Then there is my selfish reason.  My body.  The twin pregnancy ruined my stomach.  It is stretched and wrinkled and it hangs.*  I’ve lost weight and it’s still bad.  No amount of diet and exercise with do a damn thing to help it.  I hate mirrors.  I have anxiety attacks over the idea of anyone seeing it.  I often wonder what people expect I look like under my clothes.  I put so much effort into hiding my deformed belly, that I think no one has a clue.  Which kind of makes the idea of anyone seeing it even worse, because it would be such a shock.  I wonder about other women’s bodies and what they look like, whether anyone looks as bad as me.  Or is this as bad as it gets?  And I wonder how men feel about things like this and how bad this is on a scale of repulsiveness.  Yes, I realize shouldn’t matter what other men think (and that this is no place for confessions) but still, I wonder.  I wonder and I panic.

I want to have surgery and the only way to have it is to know I definitely won’t get pregnant again.  So I asked and he said okay.  I guess my next step is to contact the urologist for him and get a consult with a plastic surgeon for me.

 

*In all honesty, I’ve looked up pictures of ‘twin skin’ online and mine falls somewhere in the middle of severity.  There are definitely cases that look worse, but also many, many that look not as bad as I think mine does.  I’m sure the doctor would readily agree that I am a good candidate for surgery.

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2 responses »

    • I agree, it is sad. It took me almost three years to be able to say it and really mean it. Actually, it took babysitting someone’s 3-month old while also watching my twins for me to know for sure I don’t want/can’t handle another for more than a few hours. Hopefully hubby will get there too…

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