The topic of birth control for parents has come up too often lately for me not to throw my commentary into the ring.

Many of my straight girlfriends talk about how they are pretty sure they are content with the current size of their family, but may not be ready to make a permanent decision involving a vasectomy or tubal ligation. There are other non-permanent options available that each have their own pros and cons.

The long and short of it is, that most of my married heterosexual friends with kids have that discussion.

In the words of a very candid (and funny) friend, “I’m going to make sure that there is ZERO chance of an ‘uh oh’ in my house! My husband and I are already outnumbered!”

One of the great things about birth control for lesbian moms is that we don’t have to worry about “oops” moments or failed birth control.

We don’t have sperm.

And one of the hardest things about becoming a lesbian moms…

We don’t have sperm.

 

Having a baby without having sperm is tricky. And expensive.

As a quick background, we had both of the boys with donor sperm. An anonymous donor from someplace far, far away. That was our choice rather than someone we knew or other options.

And we were both lucky enough to be fairly fertile, so biological children were a possibility for us. My wife gave birth to our older son and I gave birth to our youngest.

Long story short, our conversations about whether we want more kids or not will not involve a prescription or surgery.

It means deciding whether or not to keep the sperm on ice.

Seriously.

 

When I was pregnant with Dylan, Lo and I were both certain that he would be our last child.

“Two boys are enough!” we said over and over and over again. We were in agreement. Very little discussion was required.

Shortly after he was born, we had a few conversations about being sure we were done and that we’d have to make a decision soon.

Then, I started dragging my feet.

We received quarterly bills from the fertility center that was “storing” our donor’s remaining samples. The storage fees had more than doubled since we had Andrew.

Lo would open the bill, leave it for me on the table and say (time after time), “we need to make the call to the center.”

“The call”

The call to the fertility center to destroy or donate the sperm. Not just “sperm” but the magical key that gave us two beautiful, perfect, amazing, healthy little boys who are biologically related. The stuff that was no longer available through the sperm bank because the donor had been “retired.”

The finality of it made me pause.

The pausing made Lo nutty.

I knew our family was complete and perfect. I knew I was absolutely content with our 2 boys and didn’t want to ever add a third. But I still couldn’t pull the trigger. I have no explanation.

It took me almost 18 months. I can’t tell you what the final storage bill was with the fertility center, how many discussions we had during that time or how many “what ifs” went through my head.

But we did it. We I finally made the call and did the deed. It’s still so final, but I don’t regret it.

 

 

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