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Health & Fitness

Just One More...

Sometimes, the thought of being "finished" with babies really makes me want another. Unfortunately, my husband doesn't share this desire.

This past weekend heralded several anniversaries for me and my family. Oct. 8 would have been the 62nd anniversary of my paternal grandparents. They created an amazing family from their 59 years together and, as I've mentioned in prior posts, did an absolutely fabulous job of not just building a family together, but creating a cohesive unit that, despite states and countries and multiple generations, maintains a very close family connection.

In keeping with strong marriages, Oct. 9 was the 12-year anniversary of my oldest brother and his wife. Based on what my husband says about being married to me, and based on the similarities between myself and my brother (as laughed...or cried) about by my husband and my brother's wife), this is an equally amazing feat. If you keep in mind that my parents wouldn't let me leave until I went to college, I lasted living with other DeMeritts exactly two months between high school graduation and the start of the college semester. Oh, I love my DeMeritt family dearly, but not enough to live with any of them. (Which does make you wonder why I then went on to create four more... but they are only 1/2 DeMeritt; and my husband, being perfection personified, makes them live-with-able.)

So congratulations are due one hundred fold to my sister-in-law. 

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But, this weekend also brought another anniversary. On Oct. 8, my dear baby girl turned 18 months old. (Gasp, sigh, and wipe away a tear). By most standards, 18 months means she is no longer a baby. Sure, she didn't dramatically change the night between being 17 months and turning 18 months, but I know it's over. And what makes this anniversary even harder is the knowledge that my husband has put his foot down (and taken a knife to his nether regions) to ensure that we have no more children. When he made that decision, I agreed that four was enough. That I was wonderfully happy and satisfied with my family (although I did get a dog exactly two weeks later). That I would never complain. But, here I am, trying to convince my husband that maybe, just maybe...one more?  

The problem is, due to his one and only self-motivated trip to a doctor, it's harder to get pregnant. Before, it was relatively easy to create another.  

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1. Get the hubby happy (i.e., drunk). Get him...uhm...hey, we're married!

2. Wait for the perfect moment and ask...He'll say yes to anything at certain moments—whether or not he even heard the question that I may or may not have asked under my breath is beside the point.

TADA! Four weeks later: "Honey! We're pregnant!" and I would gleefully hand him a tissue to wipe away the tears of joy rolling down his cheeks.  

But now, that's ruined. And while I've done relentless internet searching to determine if there is any vitamin supplement (or surgical change that can be done while he sleeps) that would reverse the procedure, I have found nothing. 

So last week I tried a new approach. The "hypothetical situation" approach.  

So, honey, say there's an illegal immigrant who has a brand new baby born in the U.S. The illegal immigrant is deported, but she wants her child to remain in the states since he'd have no real chances back in the home country. Since it may be a matter of life and death for this child, we could adopt him, right?

NO.
But what if you KNEW the child would be murdered if it were deported?
NO.
Okay... so what if we found a baby in a basket on our front porch?
NO.
Back seat of our car?
WE DON'T LIVE IN A LIFETIME MOVIE. NO.

So then I try a different (albeit, potentially dangerous) tack.

So, honey. Would you love me no matter what?
YES.
What if I made a serious mistake one night and, oh, I don't know, cheated?
I'D FORGIVE YOU.
And what if I accidentally got pregnant from that mistake?
NO.  
Okay... what if YOU cheated and SHE got pregnant but didn't want the baby...
YOU HAVE JUST CONVINCED ME TO NEVER EVER EVER EVEN CONSIDER INFIDELITY.

I don't think he'd put it past me to hire a surrogate to seduce him just to get another baby in my arms.  

My last-ditch effort actually worked.  

What if your vasectomy fails?

IF MY VASECTOMY FAILS, I WILL SUE THAT DOCTOR FOR SO MUCH MONEY THAT WE CAN BUY MY DREAM HOME, HIRE A LIVE-IN NANNY, A MAID, A COOK, PAY FOR ALL THE KIDS' COLLEGE EXPENSES, AND I'D GET TO RETIRE AT 38.  SO YES.  BANK ON THAT. 

I will. I will bank on that.  

And as a side note to any friends or family who have considered putting me and JMahl down as the legal guardians of your children should something (God forbid) happen to you.... that's absolutely fine with us. As long as your life insurance is enough to cover a dream home, live-in nanny, maid, cook, college, and JMahl's retirement fund.

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