Why did you do this? Why didn’t your husband do this? He’s weak! He’s selfish! He’s afraid! He doesn’t support you!
Ultimately the decision to have my tubes “tied” this past week (although this is far from what happens and if that is what truly happened it would have been much more pleasant) was mine.
But why? Don’t you want more babies? What if? All the what ifs! It would have been easier for your husband! Don’t you want to give your daughter a sibling?
No. No. No.
I have been through hell and back.
We have been through hell and back.
A hell that very few people have been to. One that you can not just “think happy thoughts” to get out of, or go for a walk to clear your head and snap back from.
PPD after my daughter lasted at minimum two years and lead into a Bipolar diagnosis that will remain with me (us) forever. I was immersed into the darkest places I have ever gone and wasn’t sure I would ever come out.
Suicide felt like my only option.
Disclosing this plan to my family made the pain on their faces terrifyingly real and I felt ever more alone.
Having another child would mean potentially stepping back into a darkness I fought excruciatingly hard to get out of.
It would mean dose changes, potential med changes, the risk of suicidal ideation returning, and putting myself at a very high risk. Putting my family at a very high risk.
We have also suffered two miscarriages. The weight of those loses sent me through a tailspin of emotions, grief, and feelings of failure.
For me this surgery was closure.
Yes, babies are cute and cuddly and smell delicious and mean new beginnings.
But not in my life directly.
I can love them from afar.
My mental stability, family, child, and life are so much more important than selfishly bringing another person into the world because society says my daughter “must” have a sibling.
She is enough.
We are enough.
And I am enough.