Just Detach My Nuts Already!

I was all set on detaching my nuts immediately following the birth of our second child. I was set on it. It was a certainty. I had no doubt in my mind. My boys were all set to be free. Retiring early. And yet, now three months after our second and final kid was born, I have yet to do it. My wife is back at work now, and my boys are still in working ready to inseminate condition. Why, why have I dropped the ball, no, I mean why have I not yet dropped the balls?

I fully planned on doing it immediately after our second kid slithered out. I told everyone I knew, even perfect strangers that I was going to do it. I bragged about it to anyone that would listen. But as the weeks flew by, and the three months of maternity leave my wife had was shortening, I never called a urologist. Every time my wife would ask me if I had set an appointment, I just mumbled something to the effect of, yeah I’ll get to it, or what’s the rush.



It’s not till now, now that she has gone back to work and there’s no good time to take a few days to recover from a sharp scalpel to the nuts, that I realize I don’t want to do it just yet. Somewhere in the nether region of my unconscious, in the area they call the Shadow, I never really planned on doing it. But I didn’t know it until recently.

I have no fears about it, I am not scared to go through the procedure itself. Hell, I have had a dozen extremely painful and invasive medical procedures due to accidents, injuries, and naturally inherent abnormalities in my life. I have also visited a urologist before. He did some pretty nasty, and yet oddly enough, not so unpleasant feeling procedures in my anal and testicular region due to a still unexplained medical condition which no twenty-one year old should ever have experienced. It was the type of medical condition reserved for the geriatric generations. Don’t ask. What I am saying is that having my balls in the palm of a grown mans hand in the name of medical science is not so foreign to me. And who said letting some perfect stranger handle your balls is wrong anyway? (But hey, I didn’t say it was right either.)



What I just recently realized is this. I am afraid of the unknown. My anxiety has gotten the best of me and I have envisioned terrible things happening to my kids. Yes, I do watch way to many horror movies. But really, the fear of the unknown, the fear of what could possibly maybe happen has gotten to me. What if one of my kids dies? What if they run out into the street and get smashed by a skateboarder, or fall off a sixty foot cliff, or sit on the train tracks two blocks behind my house? What if what if what if. All the women in my family think I’m crazy, and every time I explain my answer to them, they shake their head and stop me cold. They don’t even want to hear my fears. To them it’s blasphemy to even speak of such things. But my brothers just nod their heads with understanding. Why can’t I talk about how I am afraid that a horrific accident may befall one of my kids? I know dam well that everyone, that every sane person with kids has thought about it, at least for a fleeting moment. And I never shy away from talking about what’s on my mind. But they don’t want to hear it. Their response is always that I am crazy, and I should just go ahead and chop my balls off already, well in so many words anyway.



So, I have just decided that I will wait until my kids are a little older, to get my vasectomy. I have a newborn, and you just never know what can happen. But I suppose I am waiting at least long enough to wrap my brain around it anyway. Why rush it right? Oh yeah, because we all know what happened the last time I was suppose to wear a condom. Welcome boy #1. And we all know what happened the last time my wife was on birth control and those hormones turned her into a raving mad lunatic of epic hormonal imbalance proportions. But am I being irrational? Is it okay to wait because I fear my newborn may come down with the bubonic plague and if that happens I want to be able to impregnate the wife again?