I Can Finally Get My Tubes Tied, But Now Iâ€™m Having Doubts
As Iâ€™ve written about before, Iâ€™ve been trying, begging and pleading with doctors to tie my damn tubes ever since I had my last baby four years ago. Unfortunately, many doctors have policies against sterilization before a certain age (often 30, but Iâ€™ve been told as high as 35), so even though I already have three children, itâ€™s always been a no-go. Until now. Now that Iâ€™ve hit the magical age of 30, doctors have no problem giving me the old snip snipâ€¦so why am I suddenly having doubts?
Itâ€™s not as if I want any more children. That ship has sailed and I have no regrets. I have considered adopting in the future, but that has no bearing on my decision to get sterilized. Intellectually I know that my baby making days are done, but emotionally Iâ€™m having a difficult time letting go. Maybe itâ€™s because our patriarchal society confuses femininity with fertility. Maybe Iâ€™m being effected by some pre-ordained biological clock. Or maybe baby feet are just freaking adorable.
It doesnâ€™t help that, since I was a young mom, all of my friends are just now getting married and starting their families. Babies. Are. Everywhere. Which can be a good thing for some quick and easy baby-time (with a baby I can conveniently give back at the end of the day), but it also reminds me of how much time has passed with my own brood, and how far beyond their babyhood weâ€™ve gotten. I miss baby feet, dammit!
Donâ€™t worry, Iâ€™m not going to pop out another kid just to satisfy my hunger for adorable baby toes. That would be silly and not in the best interest of my family. But I canâ€™t help but feel a little wistful every time another friend announces her pregnancy with a dozen hazy looking sonogram photos on Facebook.
Then I remember the sleepless nights, the poopy diapers and the spit up (OH! The spit up) and I think to myself â€œEhâ€¦Iâ€™ll be okay.â€