Are you shitting me. Are you god damn shitting me. After all these years, after all this crying and arguments and fuss…

Now you scheduled an appointment for a consultation on a vasectomy reversal.

I… I don’t even know what to think or feel. I’m overwhelmed. I’m happy. I’m nervous. I’m scared. I’m so excited I almost feel like I could puke.

Shit. I need to look for a high risk OB. I’m going to be a most medically managed bitch.

I have to survive this and… that will take some effort on the parts of folks who have some serious training. I shouldn’t have another kid. It’s a death wish. But really my whole life is a death wish.

As much as I can’t promise no suicide forever… I will raise my children. I will.

So this would reset the clock on that a bit. I guess that’s a way to work around this problem.

I am so excited. I am so excited I can barely breathe.

I don’t know how to express how I have always wanted three kids. I know there will be problems. There are problems now. There were problems with no kids.

I want this baby so bad. Yes, it is selfish. Yes it is population growth. I know. I know I’m a bad, selfish person. I am.

You don’t understand what my relationships with my children give me. As much as I chafe at portions of it, their existence and their interactions with me give me the most security and happiness I’ve known.

Yes, I want more of that.

Noah is looking at me sharp and asking if I will want to stop at three. I don’t want a child who will be in the same age position to their oldest sibling as I was in. I have to stop at three for spacing reasons.

How is this going to work?

We really don’t know yet. We have a while to discuss it. The rest of our lives, really. But some factors are more immediately pressing. Things like a vasectomy reversal is about 40%-54% successful. How do we feel about spending that much money for a coin flip of a chance?

Have you seen this man’s babies? I’ll do it.

But what if it doesn’t work? How do we feel about someone else knocking me up? I’ve been a gigantic asshole for years about wanting to be a woman in my family with one baby daddy. Today it occurred to me that I am much more upset about the idea of an accidental pregnancy than I am at the idea of multiple fathers.

Being unwanted has colored my whole life. I don’t want a surprise baby. I want joyously conceived intentional children. Children born into the fullness of love and welcome.

I need to give that to other people because I couldn’t have it. That is important.

I know that this will be a hospital birth. If they push me for a section I’ll say yes. I know my hemorrhage risk.

I know.

This isn’t how I want to die.

Once upon a time 50% of women died in childbirth. I won’t be motherfucking one of them.

No, monogamy won’t work again. For so many reasons. I wanted it to work. I poured every ounce of try I had into making it work.

I failed.

What does this mean? Well it means what we thought we agreed to like a fucking week ago is… yeah. Probably not the final agreement or anything close to it. uuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhheeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh

fuss

Cause if I’m getting knocked up again… this time I can’t do the maintenance sex all the time. I just can’t. It is eating my soul. I need to stop having sex when I’m not in the god damn mood and yeah that means I need to get over being so jealous of Noah having sex with other people.

In my defense I handled that bit well during a previous pregnancy. (Ok I was weird about the couch. I DON’T KNOW WHY I AM SO WEIRD ABOUT EITHER OF US FUCKING SOMEONE ELSE ON THE GOD DAMN COUCH.)

No really, I was ok when I was pregnant and completely not interested in sex. I wasn’t pissy at all about him having sex with a friend. Yay them.

So yeah. We are discussing what polyamory (I refuse to claim it yet. Oh god) might look like for us. Live in forever partner? Coparent?

We would like (a) serious coparents.

We would.

Which makes me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet for how it went down with Sarah.

At least my mistakes were huge and easy to see and uhm easy to avoid duplicating. God I hit so many huge fuck ups in such a short period of time.

Fuck.

So who knows. Life is long. Why in the world would anyone want to do this sort of thing with me/us?

Shit I dinno. But I don’t know why Noah is here either. Maybe someone else has equally mysterious needs of their own.

Who are you though?