But the big news is that tomorrow I’ll be getting a vasectomy. Sorry, Pretired Boy, no little brother or sister for you!
Before we welcomed our little guy, I always felt the right number of kids was ZERO. Or, if you feel you must reproduce, two. I’d seen way too many only children grow up to be self-important, attention-seeking know-it-alls. (Not all of them, mind you. Don’t jump on my ass, only children!)
Given my advanced age, we figured we’d have a second shortly after the first to complete our little family. Well, after Pretired Mama nearly died during childbirth and we were give a strict enforced waiting period, things changed. Pretired Boy is such an even-tempered, happy little guy that somehow we knew the second one would be a terror.
Which meant it was time for The. Snip. Not a decision to be taken lightly, for sure, but an easier decision now than 10 years ago. (The cat is rolling its eyes at me right now.)
I’ve always loved kids, but dreaded the responsibility. I never even had a pet because I wanted the freedom to pick up and go if I wanted. Now, after two years of late night soothings, the minute-by-minute roller coaster of emotions and obvious expense, the time has come.
We procrastinated awhile because I was hurrying to polish off the basement project for reasons I’ve mentioned here and a few others I haven’t yet mentioned. In the middle of that, I managed to get a hernia and I’m still recovering from THAT surgery. So it’s been a whirlwind the past several months to say the least.
But tomorrow is the big day.
My balls and I have always a good, healthy relationship. I give them what they need and try not to bang them around too much and in return they don’t cause too much fuss and generally let my brain do the thinking. It saddens me to hurt the guys, but hopefully it won’t be too bad for them. Sorry, guys!
Am I nervous? Oddly, not really. Just the normal back-of-mind worry that comes with any upcoming appointment. The logistics of getting there and managing a two-year-old have been a bigger concern than the actual surgery. I’m definitely less scared of the surgery than I am at the prospect of two more years of no sleep. It will be nice to have it in the rear-view mirror, though.
So we’ll be working on ways to keep Pretired Boy grounded and not smothered with parental attention. We’ll be utilizing other peoples’ kids as proxy siblings and will try to let him roam on his own as much as possible. We have our work cut out for us, but somehow I think less work than if we had another kid.
What do you think? Any advice for raising an only child? Am I making a terrible mistake? Anyone have a good vasectomy story they want to share?