So a good friend of ours announced that, although he’s happily (subjective, yes, like all of us) married, with two small kids, and getting a vasectomy since they’re definitely done having kids, he’s decided to ‘save’ some sperm. Just ‘put it aside,’ in case.
“Uh… in case of what?” we asked. “You know, in case. You just never know what could happen in life. If I need it, for my 25 year-old second wife down the line, for another kid…well, it’ll be there. Kind of like a security deposit.”
Hmmm. Sounds kind of douche-y, I know. But it does make you think. The finality of a vasectomy seems startling. As Paul and I grapple with this very idea, I feel myself turning away from the option. I mean, yes, we’re done. I know we’re happy with our two kids, but I’m still…my eggs…are still probably kind of GOOD, y’know? Ugh, I don’t know. The whole thing just wreaks of…we’re getting older. So weird.