I have decided to have a vasectomy. Only if she asks, though.
I doubt she would get a hysterectomy if I asked her. Double standard? Maybe. But I’d rather have one coming than owe one. Being under the knife isn’t that scary, and I’ve always been fine going to the doctor. Still, we’re talking about an area on the body where sharp objects aren’t typically allowed.
Don’t be confused. I want more kids. But I have a son already and she has kids of her own, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want any more. She’s adamant about it, actually. Being a parent has been the greatest part of my life so far and I don’t plan on letting the experience fizzle out. This may be the first selfless, forward thought I’ve ever had as a man.
When I was younger and more naïve about parenting, I decided I wanted twenty kids. I wasn’t sure my college girlfriend would be receptive to carrying and birthing that many, so I told her I would settle for twelve. Not the most wonderful conversation we ever had.
We had our first child and life got a little more interesting. Having a child is easy, at least for the father. Raising a child, however, is a different story. A few years after Ethan was born, I found myself divorced.
I’ve dated plenty since my divorce and after more than one miserable failure, I’ve discovered I have a type. I’m attracted to single moms. I’m not sure exactly how or when it happened, but I have some ideas. I like the maturity, the independence and plus, they can be quite impressive. A woman who can multitask while keeping her hair looking fabulous really does it for me. The ability to coordinate stroller, carryall and Coke Zero, plus the capacity to swoop in like Superwoman to bandage an owwie has great potential to make me weak in the knees.
Kids, obviously, are a part of that package. I’d like more. But I’m not so sure they have to be mine. I haven’t wholly resigned myself to the idea that I won’t create more of my own children, but it doesn’t seem to matter as much anymore. The idea of adoption fascinates me. I doubt I’ll have anywhere near the twenty I was hoping for. I have surprised myself with my stance on vasectomies. If her kids can put up with me then I’m sure I can love them.
Their mom isn’t half bad, either.
So, if she asks, I’ll make the appointment and have the procedure. I might even offer without her asking. There is something about losing a part of my masculinity that makes me feel manlier already.
I’m not cutting anything until I’m married, though, and that still seems to be a long way off.