Not long after I got together with my partner Brian, he went out and booked himself an appointment for a vasectomy. I still had some feelings about no longer having the “choice” about children. I wasn’t feeling a strong urge to have kids at the time, and even though we had talked about it before (and I had encouraged him to get the snip), I wasn’t sure.
So as a way to buffer that, we agreed to bank some of his sperm, ‘just in case.’ We joked about offering his goods to some lesbian women we knew who wanted to conceive—hey, it’s great sperm! He’s smart, good looking… But that didn’t happen. So then just last year, we got this letter from the fertility clinic, saying they were shutting down. And did we want to have the sperm sent to another clinic. We kind of looked at each other and said…nah, flush it. It’s done.
For me, the biological clock was a temporary insanity, like having an alien take over my body and mind. At the time it felt so strong and so permanent, like it would last forever. But it didn’t. It was agonizing at the time. But it passed and I’m certainly not feeling anything like the regret that some people told me I would have.
<excerpted from Megan’s story from One in Five Portraits>
Photo by Wendy D Photography (wendyd.ca)