Next week I'm going to get a vasectomy from the same urologist who helped us with fertility problems a few years ago. It's weird, because we had a five-year dry spell and couldn't get pregnant, even with several artificial inseminations. Then, after we'd given up and I'd started getting excited about other possibilities (such as maybe doing a Ph.D.), she suddenly gets pregnant for no apparent reason. (Well, we did do that one thing, but it hadn't been working for so long . . .) And then she turns around and gets pregnant again only nine months later, by accident! (We'd just started using condoms, but apparently we started a day or two late.)
Turning 41 in a few months, Ann has not wavered in her sense of maternal doneness, and we have received no dreams or visitations from additional spirits still waiting to come to our family (knock on wood). We have five kids total, and our plate feels pretty full. My eleven-year-old has decided he doesn't like us and won't come visit; dealing with my ex and those two kids is an ongoing struggle. But at least our new baby is turning out quite cute, and I'm really enjoying his darker coloring. I hope he doesn't start going blond and blue-eyed on us, because we've already done plenty of that.