Sorry for not blogging last night. Vance and I were in the throes of a deep and varied conversation about our childhoods and our parents. We always have the most fun conversations when he’s drunk. No, we were not “doing it.” I’m not quite ready to “do it” yet, much to his dismay, and mine as well, actually. Being able to “do it” would mean that things are going back to normal again, and unfortunately, we’re still not there yet.
I had my six-week follow up today with my Doctor. I brought the baby and left Deven with Vance so that they could have fun together and so that the ladies in the office could meet the fruits of their (and my) labor. He was a hit, of course, even though he spit up on himself four times and started fussing. As soon as he started crying, Amanda, the medical assistant, opened the door and said, “Oh my, is it time for someone to take that baby?” and then she disappeared with him until my appointment was over. It was almost as though it was PLANNED.
So my Doctor examined me up and down and then asked me about my plans for birth control. Even though I knew it was coming and she was expecting some kind of answer, I still acted like I had no idea what my options were and she went through the whole spiel and pulled out all of the different examples of birth control. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t want any, because I knew I would get a finger wagging and a lecture. We definitely don’t want another baby anytime soon, but I also don’t want to deal with the sickness from hormonal birth control, or the cramps and bleeding from the copper IUD that I had last time. I’m not an overly-fertile person, and I know that doesn’t mean that I am immune to accidents or surprises, but I’m confident that we’ll be okay. Or I’m willing to take my chances or force Vance to suit up. With two kids, we won’t be “doing it” very often anyway. We weren’t back when we had just one kid.
Vance has more than once brought up the idea of having a vasectomy, which surprises me. I don’t understand why he is so open on having surgery on his nads. And then I would remind him that I would us to possibly have another baby in another 5 years, and he’s all, “I’ll just get it reversed!” HELLO, more surgery on the nads. He’s just too okay with it. I just kept picturing Michael Scott explaining to Jan the impact of multiple vasectomies. I’m all for him taking the birth control reins, but that just seems like too much even for me.
More babies is a looong way off. We won’t be even considering it until I’ve finished college and we’ve bought a house. Besides, I’m still not okay with the possible risk of having a third boy. I have to get to that point before we can have a third child. I might never get to that point.
It seems really stupid of me to go from talking about refusing birth control to how I plan on focusing on my own dreams over the next several years. I feel like by having my second child, I have built my family, and now it is time to focus on the other things that I want to do with my life. I want to get my degree and start my career, and focus more on writing. I’ve talked about going back to school after finishing my degree and taking art courses. I want to see what other roles I can fulfill along side the role of “mother.” I want to know who else I am and what else I am capable of doing. I’m not going to be able to fit anything else in my life if I keep on reproducing.
Babies are awfully cute though.