My best friend is sitting at home today recovering from a vasectomy. I called him on Sunday to wish him a happy Father’s Day, and he mentioned he was going under the knife. I was a bit surprised, but not terribly. He and his wife have two gorgeous kids, one boy and one girl. They could afford to have as many kids as they want, but I think they’re ready to stop being pregnant and enjoy raising their children.
I don’t want more than two kids. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced I want more than one. Leah and I are both siblings, and the argument for having a brother or sister for Ava is a strong one. But I’m a worrier, at least about the long term. I worry about being able to send one kid to college, let alone two. I have a hard time putting aside my concerns about the future to consider the joy and happiness that two kids would undoubtedly bring our lives. Assuming, of course, one or both of them doesn’t end up hooked on smack or some fancy new synthetic drug that drives them into a miserable addiction that causes them to sell all our belongings for a fix. I have got to stop watching Intervention.
Still and all, a vasectomy sure does seem…final. At the moment, I can’t see myself ever wanting any kids with anyone other than Leah, but then I’m sure lots of people have thought that very same thing before. What about when she tires (even more) of me and casts me aside for some young hunk?
What do we tell Ava about why she’s getting a sibling? It’d be easy enough to explain to the new kid on the block why we wanted to bring another child into the world, but if I were Ava, I might be thinking, “what, I’m not enough for them?” And will I have enough love to share with two kids? I mean, one person can only love so much, right, and I’ve never been mistaken for Mother Theresa.
So much to consider. The more I think about it, the more it seems like the most logical way to approach all this is just to jump into it and throw caution to the wind.
And speaking of wind, I was vacuuming our car the other day with the Shop Vac, and Ava walked over and stood in front of the outflow vent. She had a big smile on her face as the blowing air pushed her hair back, and she giggled and brushed the curls away from her face while she turned her head back and forth. She reminded me of Jessica Lange as Dwan in King Kong, only cuter.
