On a brisk autumn day in 2013, my husband, Mark, underwent a vasectomy. We had never intended to start a family, yet life surprised us with two children born just 355 days apart. Given our circumstances, it felt like the right decision to ensure we wouldn’t have any more. It was a choice that was best for us, our family, and my well-being. What I didn’t expect was the emergence of what I call “the emptiness.”
Understanding the Emptiness
Let’s dive into this emptiness. It takes shape when you take definitive steps to eliminate the possibility of having more children. Whether it’s through surgical procedures or other forms of contraception, the emptiness manifests in its own way.
However, this emptiness isn’t just a void; it’s filled with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. Here, nestled within this space, lies the flicker of my desire for another child. You might be perplexed, thinking, “Didn’t you say you didn’t want more kids?” And you’re right—I truly don’t. But there’s a peculiar sensation that arises when you realize that your body, which has welcomed and nurtured two beautiful children, will never experience that again. The very organs designed to bring forth life now remain in a state of dormancy, unable to fulfill their purpose.
Reflections on the Decision
I can confidently state that I don’t wish for more children now, but that wasn’t always the case. In the months following Mark’s procedure, uncertainty clouded my thoughts. After the surgery, we were instructed to use an alternate form of birth control until he was confirmed sterile. As we transitioned into our new reality, I even suggested to Mark that we might want to abandon our precautions in favor of fate, pondering whether we should let nature take its course. He was on board with that idea.
However, as I read an onslaught of stories about unexpected pregnancies post-vasectomy, I found myself meticulously tracking my ovulation cycle—hoping that maybe, just maybe, a little sperm would defy the odds and grant us another child. I even envisioned a daughter, whom I would name Lily Hope.
Yet, Lily Hope never came to be, and it took me several months to reconcile with that truth. Ultimately, I don’t regret our decision; I cherish my little family just as it is. And yet, the emptiness remains, stirring a longing within me. I’ll never again experience the rush of contractions as my body prepares for labor. I won’t hold a newborn of my own, nor will I witness the joyful milestones of a baby learning to explore the world.
Living with the Emptiness
This sadness finds its haven in the emptiness. It’s now a part of me, and I suspect it always will be. As friends welcome new babies and I hold those tiny bundles, I feel the emptiness swell within me momentarily. Watching my children grow and become more independent sometimes brings a quiet yearning for the days when they needed me entirely. Sure, those moments could be overwhelming, but they also fulfilled a deep-seated need within me to be needed.
In a few months, a dear friend of mine will welcome her third child, and I can’t wait to hear her stories about navigating such a significant change. I’ll take solace in my own choice not to add a third child to our family, especially since I often feel stretched thin managing the two I already have. Still, that emptiness will occasionally stir up a tinge of jealousy. I’ll feel a pinch of regret that I won’t experience her journey. After helping her around the house and preparing meals, I’ll return home while she cuddles with her newborn—a chance I’ll never have again.
Finding Contentment
As I’ve mentioned, I’m genuinely content with the two children I have. They are sharp, amusing, and wonderfully challenging in ways that make life meaningful. I am learning to accept the emptiness as an integral part of my narrative. It serves as a reminder of my past, my choices, and how naive I once was to believe I never wanted children in the first place.
For those exploring options around family planning, you might find it helpful to check out other stories on our blog, like this insightful piece on the emotional journey of family planning. If you’re considering at-home insemination, reputable resources like Make A Mom’s BabyMaker provide excellent kits. Additionally, the Genetics and IVF Institute is an invaluable resource for anyone navigating pregnancy and home insemination.
Conclusion
In summary, while the emptiness is a constant companion, it reminds me of the beauty of my journey and the family I cherish.
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