Best of Both Worlds

Best of both worlds

By Belinda Saffell

The air was thick in the waiting room. I could hear the infomercial playing on the tv in the background. The sound was faded. Muted. It would occasionally switch to a recorded message from one of the providers. A list of services that they offer. Breastfeeding classes, pelvic floor therapy, fertility counseling, and so on. It almost sounded like white noise to me. I found it comforting, soothing. Occasionally my gaze would shift to one of the many pregnant women in the room. She has long dark brown dreadlocks that almost touched the floor and perfect mahogany skin. That infamous pregnant woman glow. She wore a long haltered white dress and black sandals. Golden bangles framed her delicate wrists. Her hands rested on her belly, often rubbing in a circular motion. She would smile a knowing smile whenever another pregnant mother would walk through the glass doors, revealing perfect white teeth. I was envious of her beauty, it seemed so effortless.

I could only imagine what my husband would say if he saw her. “ I can’t wait for that to be you one day.” He would unfortunately be waiting a long time, since today was the day I would be getting my tubes tied. In about twenty minutes to be exact.

I have always known that I didn’t want children. I grew up as the oldest of ten. I have seen my mother give birth, rocked and burped fussy babies, sang lullabies, changed diapers, made baby purees from scratch, and loved every single moment of it. I loved it so much that I made a career out of helping new moms as a postpartum doula. Despite how much I love babies, I’ve always known deep down that I never wanted any of my own. And I was usually very upfront about this when I was dating. Except when it came to my husband.

From the moment I met him, there was something about him that kept me from thinking straight. I saw him for the first time in a crowded restaurant during happy hour. His tall build and curly jet-black hair immediately stood out to me. He was looking away from me at first. When he turned around was when I saw his beautiful dark brown eyes and I just knew. I knew he was the one I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. With a little tequila and a lot of encouragement from my friends, I got up, approached him with a smile and the rest is history.

I didn’t intend to lie to him at first. I thought it was something that we could work out or move past.

“Do you want kids?” he asked me after a few months of us seeing each other.

“Of course!” the words came out before I had a chance to stop them.

“Oh awesome me too! I’m so relieved, that’s a pretty big deal breaker for me. I don’t think I could date someone who didn’t want children.”

“Honestly same.” Those damn words came out too fast again.

Knowing that he would end things if he knew the truth, I didn’t think I could come clean. It would be the end of us and I knew he was my soulmate. So I went along with it, hoping someway, somehow, the universe would find a way to resolve things without anyone getting hurt.

Instead things only escalated. I love yous were said, we moved in together. Started planning a life together. Any time the subject of children would come up, I would enthusiastically talk about how much I couldn’t wait to have them, how I couldn’t wait to experience pregnancy, how I wanted to have five kids even.

I really don’t know why I lied. I’ve heard that love makes you do stupid things.

Then one day, he proposed.

We were on vacation in Martinique. We had gotten into a fight earlier that day over which restaurant we would go to for diner. We settled for a beautiful restaurant on a hill with a gorgeous view of the beach. There was live music playing and hardly any room to stand or sit. There were fairy lights strung about and Caribbean art filled the walls. Although it was late, it was so hot you could feel each drop of sweat dripping of your body and onto the floor.

After a twenty minute wait, we were given a small table in the corner next to the bathroom. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. After I finished my meal, I went to the bathroom and came back to the sight of my husband on one knee with a ring in his finger.

“Will you marry me? And make me happiest man alive?”

“Yes! Of course!”

The whole restaurant erupted in applause. The waitress gave us a bottle of champagne and we celebrated with everyone.

Once we were back at our hotel he looked at me in a love filled drunken stupor and said “ I wanted us to start trying for kids as soon as we get married”

“Me too!”

“ I can’t wait to be a dad. I can’t wait for us to start a family.”

This had gone too far. I knew it had. But I couldn’t tell him the truth at that point. He would call off our engagement and leave me. I couldn’t let that happen.

I hardly slept that night. I had to find a way to keep up the charade while ensuring that I would never actually be able to get pregnant.

My answer came to me many months later when I was helping a new mom who had just given birth to her fourth baby.

“How did your birth go? How are you feeling about it? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“It was a scheduled C-section so I knew when she was going to come which was kind of a relief. I didn’t have to worry about waiting around for labor to start. I do still wish I could have had a natural birth though.

“ Of course, that totally makes sense.”

“I will say, on good thing is that I was able to get my tubes tied while they were in there. Because I am done and I don’t want to take any chances on having any more babies.”

It was as if time stopped when she said those words. There it was, my solution. I would get my tubes tied before the wedding.

I would have to do it without him knowing, this would be easy though. I knew that there were several things that I could pretend to have that would need a surgical intervention. Fibroids, cysts.

My plan was enacted that faithful day.

I told my husband that I wanted to schedule a well woman visit to make sure that everything was alright and that we would have no problems when it came time for us to try to conceive.

He was of course, delighted.

Finding an office that would consult with me was another story all together. Many places flat out refused or told me my husband needed to accompany me to the appointment.

“He’s totally on board. This was his idea.”

Eventually I found the office I am currently sitting in, about an hour away from where I live. They scheduled my consultation no questions asked.

When I returned from the appointment, I told him that I had very large fibroids that needed to be surgically removed if I ever wanted to be able to conceive. Thankfully he took me at my word without further prompting.

Of course he wanted to come with me, but I told him that the operation was actually no big deal and that it would be bad luck if he came with me.

***********

“Mrs Copperfield?”

I was startled out of my daydream by the sound of the young receptionists voice.

“I’m sorry, Dr Danville is running a little late but she’ll be here in a few minutes. You can go ahead and wait for her in the back if you’d like.”

I felt a knot in my stomach as I stood up. I knew that once I went through with this, that would be it. My plan was to try to conceive as if all was normal. When that would inevitably fail, I would talk him out of seeking medical assistance for fertility challenges and talk him into just letting a baby come into our life when the time was right instead of continuing to ‘try’. My hope was that eventually he would give up on wanting children and be content with just me. Maybe I would even be able to tell him one day, forty years from now and he would thank me for saving our relationship.

A nurse came in and asked me to change into a gown and lay down on the table.

After what felt like an eternity there was a knock on the door. The doctor came in and explained the procedure to me. It wouldn’t take long, I may have some mild discomfort after, I should be able to resume my normal activities after a few days.

That white noise again.

“Alright miss Copperfield, are you ready?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

THE END