My husband got “friendly” with an ice pack, while I cried in the closet.

My husband spent the weekend with a blue cooler icepack on his crotch. He had a vasectomy on Friday. I was never able to take the pill as it made me nauseous and kooky. So I gave in to my husband’s reasoning. He said, “you’ve done enough, 4 pregnancies, 1 miscarriage, 3 C-sections, breast feeding, and dealing with that diaphragm for years.” AMEN! I’m ready to burn my diaphragm in the fireplace. (For the record I asked my husband if I could write about this and use his picture)

The thing I wasn’t prepared for, were the raging emotions, I cried the entire weekend. I am a mother of three and my last pregnancy wasn’t planned. Don’t get me wrong. He was the best darned mistake I ever made. And my husband would have more kids if I were so inclined. Which is why I didn’t really want him to know about my sadness. And even though three is enough (for me), it is the finality of no more tiny bundles that makes me sad. No more rolling little Burritos in hospital receiving blankets, or delicious newborn scalp smells. No more endless bounds of potential born just to you. I’ll have to hold the babes of others to satisfy my newborn tingles. These Darwinian urges are fierce!

I went to a playgroup birthday over the weekend and one of the moms looked down at my three year old and generously said “you make such beautiful children.” I burst into tears. She asked me what was wrong so I told her. I am discovering, this isn’t a very “talked about” subject, though many couples have taken this route. I wish I had talked to another mom about how this might feel. I wasn’t prepared. It’s funny how they have the man go through a consultation. Asking them all kinds of horrific, yet important questions like, “what if your wife dies, or you get a divorce and remarry.” I think the women should get some consult as well. Like will this feeling of “loss” go away soon?

After the Friday procedure, my husband couldn’t play his usual Saturday soccer game, so he sent out a team email that he had gone in for a little “snip snip.” One by one the guys came forward (4 on his team) and proclaimed they had gone through it and not to worry.

Their advice: pop a couple Advil and make yourself comfortable on the couch.

It’s interesting to hear how it's happening all around you, but many chose to keep it private. In retrospect maybe I should have kept it from my mother. It was like I was telling her someone died. She said, “WHY ON EARTH WOULD HE DO THAT!” I guess since I am her only child, I am the only one capable of giving her grandchildren. Those fierce Darwinian urges again. And yet another reason for some consultation.

Plus I think there is still a little “vasectomy stigma” amongst her generation, like you’re less of a man. Which is interesting, because in my book you couldn’t be more of a man than to take on the responsibility of birth control. In terms of the actual medical procedure, it wasn’t that big of a deal, he was back to work on Monday. But the deeper stuff will need some healing time. My husband’s pretty open about it. He was quite the site at the pool recently as some of my playgroup moms gathered around peppering him with questions. "Did it hurt?", "How do you feel now?" "What comes out of there now?" I kid you not! He gave them all the gritty details while they took note for a later conversation with their respective husbands. I also mentioned my sadness. It may be an easy Laparoscopic snip, but you can’t take a percocet for the emotional stuff.