The Possibilities are Endless

This week marked a pivotal point in my life with Todd. After very little debate, we decided that after having Matilda, our family would be complete, and we would get Todd "fixed." Actually, the deal was, we would get Todd fixed, unless for some reason i had to have a c-section while having Matilda, in which case i would be taking one for the team. That did not come to pass, however, so on Wednesday morning, Todd took a bath, shaved his balls, and then we left the kids with Aunt Lisa and headed off to The Emory Clinic for Todd's outpatient snip snip.

Todd was surprisingly calm. Actually, if you know Todd, you know that he is almost always calm, so it really wasn't that surprising, but if anything was going to get him a little nervous, i thought for sure it would be his scrotum going under the knife while he was awake. (He may have also been helped out a little by the prescription for valium that the doctor pre-prescribed for him to take prior to the surgery.)

Todd filled out the paperwork, which was rather amusing:
Q: Reason for electing to have this procedure performed:
A: "Screaming children."

Todd went through the double metal doors of his own volition, and i was off to find coffee and ruin my diet with a Krispy Kreme raspberry-filled doughnut. He went back at about 11 a.m. and was done around 1 p.m., giving me plenty of time to read about half of Heavy Words, Lightly Thrown: The Reason Behind the Rhyme and partake in some stellar people-watching. Hospitals are always good drama, what with all the dying and sickness and, in this wing, catheterizations, laproscopies, vasectomies, and colonoscopies. Everyone has a (completely imagined by me) story.

Todd came out on his own two feet, and the nurse congratulated me on having such a well-endowed husband. Okay, not really, but she did say that he had done great and to take care of him. We headed off to eat a lunch with no kids (Nirvana!) at Willie's, and then grocery shopping and picking up his prescriptions at the Edgewood Kroger. I think I broke the world land speed record for grocery shopping; it is amazing how fast you are when there is not a toddler throwing the items back out of the buggy while you shop. After that, we headed home to prop Todd up in bed with a Darvocet, some antibiotics, and a bag of frozen peas on his balls.

From an emotional standpoint, i have to admit that in the week preceding the procedure, i had a slight feeling of sadness. This simple procedure would put an end to our child-bearing years, and for all my bitching, my child-bearing years have been the happiest and most rewarding of my life. Most of the time, I still feel like a 25-year old; Am I ready to be past my usefulness as a breeder? When I think of a woman who is done having children, i think of her as being 40-something and graying, harried by taking pre-teens to soccer practice and cheerleading. Okay, i have the graying down, but I still feel like a young family, and when it comes down to it, there is something exhilarating and primal about the knowledge that every time you do your husband you could create another life from the act.

However, after a couple days of reflection on this decision, i have felt a sense of comfort come over me. I know that we made the decision that is right for us. As Todd is fond of saying, "We have a complete set." One boy, one girl, both perfect and healthy and loved. And hey, Todd can fuck around and not worry about child support payments, while if anything happens to Todd, I still have the plumbing in place to take the life insurance money, find me a 20-something boy toy in his sexual prime, and squeeze out a few more puppies. The possibilities are endless!