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Vasectomy, A Story
By
Christy
Kleffman is the mother of 3 boys, and a First Grade teacher
in Omaha, Nebraska. She enjoys working with children,
networking with other moms, and in her spare time (which
isn't much!) writing.
My husband and my experience with a vasectomy began in a
Lowe’s Home Improvement store in late March of 2006. We
were celebrating closing on our new house by picking out
some new appliances. It had been an exciting year for us.
I had just given birth to our second son, Charlie, on
January 17th, we had bought a minivan to
accommodate our expanding family, and now a new home. As
our oldest son Evan kept telling me, “So many fun things
have been happening!”
After picking out a new fridge, I excused myself
to go to the restroom. 20 minutes later while looking at
washing machines, I had to excuse myself again. Not long
after in the checkout lane, I was running for the bathroom
yet again. When I returned, my husband Jeff was staring at
me in absolute horror. “Why are you looking at me like
that?” I asked him. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“You haven’t had to use the bathroom like that
since you were pregnant. You don’t think-you couldn’t
be-you know, pregnant again could you?” he asked. I
laughed out loud. “Of course not!” It had been a long
process to get pregnant with Charlie. There was a 6-year
space between our oldest son and Charlie, as a result of a
diagnosis of Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. It would be
impossible, wouldn’t it? I hadn’t had a period yet since
giving birth, but that was normal, right? I brushed off his
worries, and we went home to start packing.
The thought stayed with me though, flitting
around the back of my head like an annoying gnat, all that
night and the next day at work. I finally decided that
there was only one way to make Jeff and myself feel better.
I would just take a pregnancy test and then we would all be
able to relax and enjoy getting ready to move.
The problem was, as soon as I took the test, it
immediately turned positive. I was stunned. How could this
be? I immediately burst into tears. What in the world was
I going to do? How could I possibly take care of another
baby? Charlie was only 2 months old! I called Jeff at
work, and I couldn’t even get any words out I was crying so
hard. He said, “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” When I
wailed out a yes, he said he was on his way home. I
couldn’t wait to sob on his shoulder, but when he arrived, I
could see he wasn’t yet ready to be the strong rock I needed
him to be. His face reflected my terror with the added
effect of his eyes flashing the dollar signs he was adding
in his head. We had just signed our lives away on the
dotted line for our new home, and now we would have two in
daycare.
The news just got better when I went to my Ob-GYN.
She performed an ultrasound, and instead of just the little
bean I expected to see, there was an identifiable baby with
arms and legs moving around in there. The tears that were
always ready to flow lately burst out at the ultrasound
tech. “Is there something wrong?” she asked me. “The baby
looks really healthy!” My mother, who was with me,
answered, “She just gave birth three months ago.” The tech
stared at me with awe. We were given a due date of December
4th, barely 10 and a half months after Charlie
had arrived.
The pregnancy was difficult, definitely my
hardest out of the three. I was exhausted all of the time,
and morning sickness was unbearable. I am a 1st
grade teacher, and with all of our new financial
obligations, it was a necessity for me to keep working. My
class became very used to me stopping mid-sentence to dash
for the bathroom. I had been dealing with a slight case of
post partum depression after Charlie arrived, but it went
full force with the hormone roller coaster the second
pregnancy brought on. I felt like I wasn’t doing anyone any
good. I was too tired, sick, and sad to be a good wife or
mother to my family. I wasn’t able to focus on being a good
teacher, and I didn’t feel that I was able to rest enough to
take care of the baby I was carrying.
An ultrasound on July 5th had
confirmed yet another boy, crushing the thought that had
gotten me through so far-“If it’s a little girl it will be
worth it!” In an effort to make me stop crying after the
news, Jeff let me pick out the name, I chose Samuel John.
It was hard for me to bond with the baby while I was
carrying him. Finding out it was a boy had been hard, but
it was also hard to have time to get excited when I was in
the middle of caring for two other children.
Five weeks before my due date, I went into
premature labor. At the hospital, hooked to an IV filled
with medication to make the contractions stop, I suddenly
found myself fervently praying for this baby, and I was
filled with love for the little one I had yet to meet.
Although difficult physically, early onset labor was just
the thing I needed to realize that I wanted Sam, more than
anything.
Thanks to the patience of my husband, as well as
his good humor, my fabulous mom, and lots of good friends, I
somehow made it through to delivery. Sam arrived in all of
his 10-pound glory on November 27, 2006-only 10 months and
10 days after his brother. Once we were home from the
hospital, the fun really started! Thank goodness Charlie
was a good sleeper because Sam was a horrible one. Every
time I laid him down he began to cry. He would only sleep
when snuggled on my chest. By the time he was a month old I
was a walking zombie. Jeff arrived home one day to find me
crying on the couch, holding Sam in one arm, Charlie in the
other, and trying to help Evan with homework at the same
time. I looked at him and blurted out “Would you consider
getting a vasectomy?” He looked pleased in a stunned way,
as if this was something he had been considering himself,
but thought he would have to talk me into. “Absolutely!” he
said, and I could tell he was happy to have a way to end the
chaos.
Two months passed as we chose a urologist to
work with and began to have many heart to heart talks about
whether or not this was truly the right option for us. Sam
was getting so much easier to deal with as time went on, and
I struggled with the thought that he might be the last baby
we would add to our family. It would mean that I would have
to give up my dream to have a daughter. This was probably
the hardest of all for me to deal with, but when I thought
about having more children this close together again-despite
our best planning-I was terrified. Eventually the terror
won out, and I knew that Sam was always going to hold the
place of “the baby” in our family.
I knew we had made the right choice when I felt
completely calm the day of the surgery. As I drove Jeff to
the doctor’s office, I had an intense feeling of peace
knowing our family was in place. I was prepared for Jeff to
be in a lot pain afterwards. He was instructed to take a
Valium pill ahead of time. The surgery involved two small
incisions, was completed at the doctor’s office, and took
only 45 minutes. Jeff experienced only minor pain during
the procedure and was able to walk back to the car on his
own afterwards. He took it easy for the next week, but felt
very much himself the next day. It was a small price to pay
for the peace it brought us as a couple, and as parents. We
felt like we were finally able to make plans and know we
could be more in control of the outcome. Looking back,
neither of us would change our decision to use this form of
birth control.
Now that Sam
is 1 and Charlie is 2, life is much better. It has brought
uniqueness to our family that I love-our Christmas cards
from 2006 had the theme “Baby’s First Christmas Times 2!” I
can’t imagine life without our sunny little cherub, Sam. He
truly has completed our family, in ways we weren’t even
aware we needed before he came. The blossoming friendship
between Charlie and Sam is one of the biggest gifts I have
received in my life. They do everything together, and
they are both the pride and joy of their older brother
Evan. Would I have two children this close together again?
Not on your life-but it has brought me blessings I never
imagined as a mother.
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