After my C-section with Felix, I wrote that I also had my tubes tied. Will and I figured that since we had demonstrated our fertility on top of me about to turn 40 on top of our financial situation, that it was time to take heroic measures to prevent any more children being born. And I’ll be honest: I’ve read that the first year after a second baby is probably the most difficult on any marriage. After living through this year, I can agree with that. There have been moments where our marriage has seemed at its breaking point. I like to think we’re turning the corner these days.
So tubes were tied. And here we are nearly a year later with a three-year-old and a nearly 1-year-old. Felix has a mouthful of teeth, and is already walking. I no longer consider him a baby or an infant, but a toddler. And as glad as I am that we’re through those rough newborn months with the lack of sleep and the spitting up, I miss my baby. I get sad knowing I will never hold or nurse a baby of mine again once he finishes up.
Do I regret the tie? Yes. As crazy as it sounds, there are definitely moments when I do.
As with anything, if I could go back in time there things that I would do differently. And in this instance, these are things I would do differently that might have resulted in even more children. No, I would not want to be Michelle Duggar. But maybe one or two more little souls would have been very much welcome. I would’ve started earlier, that’s for certain. I do think that in some cases having children is more of a younger woman’s game. I would’ve attacked our finances much sooner and with more tenacity. The money stress has been one of the greatest stresses we’ve had. And honestly, there would’ve been things that I would’ve worked on about myself and mine and Will’s relationship.
Trawling the Facebook pages, there’s almost always somebody who’s expecting. Ever since I tied my tubes, I feel spasms of regret and even envy every time I see this. It’s well-documented that I didn’t necessarily enjoy being pregnant, but I did relish the excitement of knowing that a little person would be born, anticipating who that little person would be. It’s such an awesome feeling that after 40 weeks, you can know that you successfully brought forth a new person into the world, and that both you and that little one are well. Those first few months of living with your new little person and discovering who they are is a wonderful time, as crappy as it is. If that even makes sense.
When I was pregnant with Felix, at first I just knew he was going to be a girl. I got all excited to have another little girl, and even had a name picked out: Violet Lorraine. I still kind of wish I could’ve had my little Violet Lorraine. And a little Finn might’ve been nice as well, which was our backup name for Felix. But what’s done is done, and I do ultimately know that the right decision was made. At this point, there’s no use crying over spilt breast milk. I need to suck it up, enjoy my little guy while he’s still a bit little, and enjoy whatever is next. I know I will. But if you have a new baby and I happen to stumble by and ask to hold him/her? Don’t worry if I seem to hug your child a second too long. I’m just remembering. And I promise I’ll give him/her back!