Getting a Vasectomy Didn’t Make Me Less “Manly” — In Fact, It’s Glorious

Having kids is wonderful, but I sure think about what life would have been like if all mine weren’t “oopsies.”

Don’t get me wrong. I adore my children. They’re my best buds, and I wouldn’t have life any other way than with them by my side. However, none of them were created with intention. Instead, I brought them all into the world through sheer terror and holding on to my last nerve as I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to navigate being a father, with no good example of what that meant.

You know what would have changed that circumstance? Taking protection into my own “hands” by getting a vasectomy a lot sooner than I did.

Oh, I know. It’s not talked about. We’re not supposed to mention anything happening to our balls. We’re men. It’s not on us to make sure kids don’t come about. Our duty is to sow the seeds of love and continue the species.

Right?

A frank conversation about that frank and his friendly beans.

It’s such a part of the public conscience that our manliness is predicated on our ability to spray semen across a room or paint the side of the house with it at any beck and call. We’re inundated with it everywhere we turn. We can’t even watch a TV show without the implications, all the time, that we are supposed to serve it up hot and fresh at the drop of a hat or coy turn of a shoulder.

The machismo oozes from the walls like that dollar-a-bottle green cologne we’d wear in high school, hoping to attract the girls.

We’re sold sex constantly, and all of it says “our manliness is tied to it.”

Meanwhile, the burden of making sure children don’t come out of the mess squarely lies on the shoulders of the ladies, as if we have no part in it all.

There’s a better way, guys. It’s safer for everyone, too.

My wife was born with a severe heart issue. In fact, she only has half of one.

Pregnancy for her comes with a high risk of death for both herself and any child conceived between us. Surgical procedures come with a lot of danger, too, so the thought of having her endure a tubal ligation or something similar is something I never wanted her to face.

I already have 3 children from previous marriages and, though she is 100% their mom (their biological mothers abandoned them years ago), she does not want any of her own. Since babies are evil, and I’d like to avoid having more, the choice was a simple one.

I would either have to wear condoms for the rest of my days, or I could look into a vasectomy.

Now, I don’t know about you, but rubbers, to me, are simply no fun. They feel terrible, and having to worry about them kills any mood the moment might have. I hate them.

A vasectomy sounds pretty scary, though, doesn’t it? Having some guy rip open your scrotum and fish around in there for a while is a proposition most guys would rather avoid thinking about. There lay the stuff of nightmares.

You know what, though? It wasn’t all that bad.

Sure, it wasn’t pleasant, but I’ve dealt with worse when some jerkbag kicked me in the sack one day during soccer, and there was a lot less bruising after the procedure than I had that day.

Of course, cleats were involved in the soccer incident, even so, it wasn’t too shabby.

A few days’ worth of sitting around in my chair with a pack of frozen corn and some movies later, and I was totally fine. It was an inconvenience, rather than a danger.

The bonus is, after having it done, I had to have 30 orgasms in as many days in order to ensure I cleared everything out. That was a heck of an interesting stretch of time, let me tell you.

After all was said and done, I found sex to be even more pleasurable than before. There’s a simple reason for that: I no longer worry at all about the lady getting pregnant.

The fear is gone, and the pleasure truly begins.

That fear was ever-present, even in the hottest moments of passion for me. Niggling in the back of my head, this voice would scream, “She’s gonna get pregnant!” I’d cling to desperate anxiety for the next month until her period started up every time.

What a horrible way to be. It sucked, and it drained the pleasure from what should have otherwise been an awesome time.

No more. Now, we can go like bunnies without a lick of concern over it, and it’s so much better because of it.

I have zero regrets about getting it done. I’m certainly no less “manly” than I was before the surgery. The best part is my wife didn’t have to go through any of the pain or side effects that inevitably come with a tubal procedure, and it’s a lot more effective, anyhow. After all, she, herself was born as the result of a tubal that didn’t “stick.”

I likewise love the fact she thinks of me as her hero for helping make sure she’s safe.

Isn’t that the goal of every manly-man out there?

C’mon, guys. Let’s do the right thing and make getting a vasectomy the new normal, not the exception.

Thank you for being you.

Keep striving to “be the best you that you can be” at this moment. Remember, no matter who you are or what you’re going through, you are worthy of being loved. Don’t let anyone teach you anything different.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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