It’s almost over. Thursday is the day the husband goes in for the big “V”. We (read: I) can not handle any more babies. I am forcing him into this because I have so many issues with birth control pills and hormone imbalance. He is capable of doing this but he doesn’t want to. I’m leaving him no choice; mostly out of principle now. There is no good reason for him to not have this done. He’s complained to me and wants me to get my parts taken care of. I don’t think so. My parts have been butchered enough, it’s your turn sunshine. Why are men such puss bags over this? Even my OB (who’s had this done as well) says it’s a mindless procedure and if you follow the recovery directions you’ll be just fine… I don’t get what’s the big deal? It’s not like they chop it off?! It still works the same as it did before. The only difference is after Thursday it will but shooting blanks. Well, that’s the goal anyway.
We can not have any more children. I can’t do any more of this on my own. I am burning the candle at both ends and I’m fighting a nasty recovery. It makes me sad, in a way, to know that this part of my life is now over. No more babies. Never again will I be pregnant. I’m still watching friends have their second & third babies and I’m all done already. I wonder if I’ll ever want #4 even though I know that it will put me over the edge. But then again, I think about the times when we were on the fence for #3 and my little guy was finally independent enough where it was fairly easy to pick up and go and do whatever we wanted. The thought of starting over again terrified me because I was really starting to enjoy my time with just the two of them. And then I found out I was pregnant and I was happy and sad and mad all at once. It’s that feeling that overcomes you that you know there is no turning back. The “oh God what have I done….” feeling that hits you like a ton of bricks and there are no take backs.
I really did enjoy this last pregnancy. There was a lot of baggage that went with it that I didn’t like and a lot of times I wished I wasn’t pregnant, only because I wanted a few cocktails with the girls, or to be thin in a swimsuit on the beach! I knew it was the last one so I did everything I could to etch those memories, those feelings, those emotions, into my brain. I will forever remember those first flutters of baby movement. I will forever remember the sound of her heart the first time I heard it. The hiccups that make you so ungodly uncomfortable but the reassurance that she is healthy and well. The anticipation of labor and wondering if the contractions are real or not. The pain of labor and challenge that lies ahead of pushing that baby out. The excitement of waiting to hear those words, “It’s a boy”, “It’s a girl”. It was the greatest, most anxious, most wonderful time. The feeling of that baby being out of your belly in and your arms is indescribable. It’s a moment that so many of us get to enjoy and yet so many who are unable to. I LOVE the miracle of birth. I love every part of it. And it makes me sad I won’t get to do it again. But it also makes me happy knowing there are no longer decisions to be made in that department. We are a finally of 5 and I love that the most 🙂