so i got fixed on wednesday morning. and by fixed, i mean my uterus is no longer broken. and by broken, i mean “permanently stuck in spitting-out-babies” mode. in case you didn’t know first-hand, or hadn’t already guessed, abdominal surgery sucks. but it’s over, it’s healing, and it’s nice to have that behind me.
i would say i never have to worry about being knocked up again, but let me tell you a little story. on my very first OB visit ever, i was 22, all cute and little with a tiny baby bump, and of course being excited about the whole thing, i struck up a conversation with the woman sitting next to me. she was about 35, very, very pregnant, and decidedly unexcited. turns out, she had intended to have 2 kids, and was now pregnant with #4… and #5. after #2, her husband had had a vasectomy. after #3, she had gotten her tubes tied. i’ll never forget what she said to me. “as soon as i get these two out, i am making them take out my tubes, my uterus, and my ovaries. the whole motherfucking works.”
yep!
