Sterilization & An Unformed Conscience
Some eight years ago our third child, David, was born. Our first child, Robert, was almost three years old, and our second child, Cecelia, was 14 months old. I was feeling overwhelmed by babies, and I thought that if I became pregnant again I wouldn’t be able to cope. So I told the doctor that I wanted a tubal ligation after the birth of our third child. The doctor asked me, “Are you sure?” and let me know that it would probably be permanent, and that was that. The day after David was born a tubal ligation was performed.
I remember greeting the news of my third pregnancy with happiness and was impatient to tell my husband, Peter. Cecelia was a happy, easygoing baby. We were all blessed with good health, so I had no big problems. Yet, I was fully aware of my difficult situation. Especially hard was the constant exhaustion: I looked forward to nap time the way a parched desert traveler looks forward to a cool spring.
As I look back, I see a timidity on my part and on my husband’s part about discussing matters such as fertility with one another. I have always been the silent, uncommunicative sort (this is now changing, I am happy to say). So when the idea of sterilization presented itself, I did not do the one thing I should have done at the very beginning, that is, talk with my husband about it.
Once fixed on this quick solution to my immediate problem of coping, I in essence informed Peter that I would have a tubal ligation. I blocked any other possibility out of my mind.
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