. . . but I haven't told you how much I love my husband.
It seems that I never get around to doing all the things I intend on doing and then I put myself on a major guilt trip. I haven't written about Allen, my wonderful husband, ever. You would have thought that I would have taken the time to write about him when I was on bed rest during my pregnancy. But it seemed I never got around to it. So, today is his day
Today, Allen made a huge sacrifice, at least mentally-- he had a vasectomy. For him, it was a major step mentally and emotionally because his children are his pride and joy and the thought of rendering himself infertile, voluntarily, was a tough thing.
I had initially decided to get my tubes tied after my last c-section. But, I started doing research and found some things that weren't to my liking. The doctor talked about the fact he may not be able to tie my tubes due to all of the scar tissue but remarked that he could use "screws", of sort, to insert up into my tubes and it was also a permanent "fix". I thought about that for awhile and decided there was no way I would have foreign material inserted in my body ever again. Every time I have had a foreign material in my body, my body has rejected it-- everything from my eyebrow ring (twice), my helix piercings (took YEARS- nearly a decade- to heal!) and my tragus piercing to the mesh used to hold my abdomen together (rejected 4 times) and the alloderm (cadaver tissue- rejected 2 times) used to also try and hold my abdomen together. So, I knew that the whole screws in the tubes would most likely be rejected too and that would be an enormous recipe for a disaster!
So, I approached Allen and asked him if he would consider a vasectomy. His first response was "I don't think I can do that". I let it rest and then talked to him about my reasons and gave him time to think about it. He came back to me and told me "Brandi, you have made such great sacrfices and have given me such beautiful children while putting your life at risk. It only makes sense for me to be the one to have the procedure instead of putting your life at risk again. I love you so much and I'm willing to do this for us."
Well, be still my heart! This may not seem like a big deal to anyone else but, to me, it meant the world.
We were hesitant to even have it done-- up until the parking lot of the hospital-- we almost backed out. It's so final! And, we love children so very, very much!! And I've always wanted 12 children. The thought of not feeling a baby inside of me again and not experiencing the joy of delivery and all of the stages afterward made me sad. Intellectually, I knew that it was the best decision for us. But, emotionally, I was finding it hard to deal with. Finally, I said "I have 5 children who are counting on me. If something happens with the next pregnancy and I die, the children would be devastated and they've already been through enough in their lives. That is not fair to them." So, out of the van we went, on to the finality of chosen infertility.
The procedure went fine and when I met Allen back in his room his first words were "It is so good to see you. You are so beautiful- just so pretty! You are a sight for sore eyes!" I leaned over and kissed him deeply and then held his hand and cried because the reality of our choice was setting in- it was no longer something that was going to happen; it was something that had been completed-- a door had been closed.
Through my tears, I told Allen how much I love him and thanked him for doing it for us. We held hands in silence for awhile as we both cried- me, more openly than Allen.
To say I'm 100% certain that we made the right decision would be a complete and utter lie. I'm still not sure what was the right decision. But, if later we decide that this was not the right thing for us and the longing for more children still tugs at our hearts, we can adopt yet again and make our lives even fuller.
I love you Allen, with all of my heart, soul and every ounce of my being.
xoxoxoxo
