A urologist's cut somehow severed my memories
Two beautiful, healthy children. A boy and a girl. We are closer to 40 than 30. For my husband, MUCH closer - sorry, I had to insert a dig. We've finally hit a good groove when it comes to work, parenting, spousing, home ownership and more. We always said we wanted two kids. It was time.
But not even a day after my husband took one for the team and got a vasectomy, I started seeing things differently. Babies are perfect. They are joyous, amazing little humans that just need snuggles. Sure the sleepless nights are rough, but they're doable.
A urologist's cut (multiple cuts, I suppose, but I'm not an anatomy expert) severed my memories of exhaustion, frustration and pain.
And here's why. There's something bittersweet about knowing you're done having kids. It's similar to the fear that accompanies the excitement of graduating from high school or college. A chapter has closed. You begin to realize life is finite.
I muddled over these thoughts for a while one day after seeing a newborn baby out and about as I shopped. I looked at this squishy helpless little peanut and then looked over to find my baby (who is now two) standing up in the cart and attempting to climb out of it to reach a Paw Patrol mac-n-cheese box. I was done with the baby phase. I started thinking about how time flies. It's something older parents tell younger parents more times than they can count. Then I started to wonder - I'm a worrier - did I enjoy it enough? Did I savor the moments? Or was I rushed too often? Too critical of myself? Thinking about other responsibilities too much?
Maybe. Probably at times.
But I can't change that.
I can, however, change the now and the next. I can live this chapter knowing it'll end, and that's not to be feared, only to serve as a reminder to live it fully. One day, my mind will likely cut out most of the bad parts, and I'll look back fondly on all these memories. It only makes sense to enjoy making them.
A urologist's cut (multiple cuts, I suppose, but I'm not an anatomy expert) severed my memories of exhaustion, frustration and pain.
And here's why. There's something bittersweet about knowing you're done having kids. It's similar to the fear that accompanies the excitement of graduating from high school or college. A chapter has closed. You begin to realize life is finite.
I muddled over these thoughts for a while one day after seeing a newborn baby out and about as I shopped. I looked at this squishy helpless little peanut and then looked over to find my baby (who is now two) standing up in the cart and attempting to climb out of it to reach a Paw Patrol mac-n-cheese box. I was done with the baby phase. I started thinking about how time flies. It's something older parents tell younger parents more times than they can count. Then I started to wonder - I'm a worrier - did I enjoy it enough? Did I savor the moments? Or was I rushed too often? Too critical of myself? Thinking about other responsibilities too much?
Maybe. Probably at times.
But I can't change that.
I can, however, change the now and the next. I can live this chapter knowing it'll end, and that's not to be feared, only to serve as a reminder to live it fully. One day, my mind will likely cut out most of the bad parts, and I'll look back fondly on all these memories. It only makes sense to enjoy making them.
