The Vasectomy Blues
A year into my six-year enlistment, the girl I had been dating announced she was pregnant. Of course, I married her, and she was pregnant again a year later. I loved my two girls. Jesse said being a single parent when I was at sea was killing her and there was no way she could survive if we had a third. I got snipped.
Fast forward four years and Jesse isn't waiting for me when my ship docks. One of my shipmates gave me a ride to my apartment. If you spend any time in the navy, this scenario gets repeated often, so I knew what to expect when I got home. Fortunately, almost all the furniture was still there. The only thing missing was everything belonging to the girls or Jesse. She even left me some beer in the refrigerator.
On the coffee table, were a letter, her wedding ring and a manilla envelope.
"Jack, I'm sorry that this is going to hurt you, but I cannot handle your deployments anymore so I'm asking for a divorce. I also met someone who I've fallen in love with. The manilla envelope contains the divorce agreement. The man I intend to marry is an officer. Since his income is significantly larger than yours, I'm not asking for any spousal support or child support. The agreement also allows liberal visitation rights. So, Jack, please don't fight this. You will always have a special place in my heart. Jesse "
After three months at sea and three beers, my alcohol tolerance was nil. I signed the papers, dropped them in the mail.
Fuck, I only had three months left on my enlistment and her new husband would be going to sea for another decade. Plus, there were several job offers sitting in the pile of mail.
The liberal visitation rights were a joke. It simply said, "at the convenience of the parties" and it was never convenient for Jesse. One year after discussing it with Jesse, I booked flights to San Diego where they were living and a two-bedroom suite. The day before Jesse called to say she had to cancel.
I hired a lawyer who threatened to sue Jesse since she was not honoring the intent of the agreement. Her husband had been transferred to Norfolk, a two-hour ride from my house. I bought a couple of twin beds and dressers and drove the two hours to Norfolk. I was not greeted warmly. The two girls jumped in the back seat, put on their headphones and didn't speak to me the whole ride to my house. When we got there, they plopped on the bed.
After a half hour I asked them if they wanted to go home.
"Yes, we want to go home. We didn't want to come here but mom said her lawyer said we had to. We don't even know you, Jack. We want to be home with our friends."
"Get your shit in the car and tell your mother you're on your way home."
It was the first time I saw them smile. Hell, they called me Jack.
I never tried to visit them again. Their mother broke my heart, and they crushed what was left.
The next few years were spent focusing on my job and the gym. Drinking only made me feel worse about my life. I missed my girls and realized they were the only children I would ever father.
Fast forward a few years and I'm dating Jen, and the sex is fantastic. She never says no, and initiates sex more than I do. She must have a dozen lingerie outfits and loves to show off her wonderful body. She was spending more and more nights at my place. I started to realize, once you got past the sex, there wasn't much to our relationship. We had nothing in common. At the same time, Jen began hinting that she should move in since she would have to renew her lease next month. I told her I was not ready to make that commitment. Jen left in a huff, and I didn't see her for a few days.
Later that week, Jen is sitting at my kitchen table crying and tells me she's pregnant.
I told her I needed to think about this, she should go home, and I would call her.
The was a glimmer of hope that I could still have children although she was not the ideal mother.
I made an appointment with a urologist. At the appointment I told him about my vasectomy and the girlfriend claiming she was pregnant.
"She may or may not be pregnant, but there's zero chance the baby is yours. We can do a sperm count but you're wasting your money."
I asked him to do the test which of course said there was no chance the baby was mine. I invited Jen over on Saturday morning. I handed her the test results and told her to get her shit out of my house.
Two years later I found myself falling in love with Liz. We had so much in common. Early on in our relationship I told her about my first marriage and my vasectomy. I felt obligated to tell her I would not be able to father children. Liz got up and left.
Saturday morning was our jogging day. I was stretching in the park when Liz joined me. It was the first time we talked since the vasectomy conversation.
Two years later we were married, and our married life was great, the sex was good. More importantly, we were always outdoors, backpacking, hiking, kayaking. The only time we were home on a weekend was if the weather forecast really sucked.
It was a Friday when I came home and found Liz at the kitchen table with a big grin on her face.
"I'm pregnant Jack," she announced.
I walked into my home office and retrieved the report from the urologist stating I couldn't father children and made my way back to the kitchen.
"Jack, I thought you would be happy that we could have a family."
I handed her the test results, "Liz, I made sure to tell you when we first started getting serious that I had a vasectomy and can't father children. You didn't speak to me for days. Don't you remember? I don't know who the father is but it's not me. Which means you've been cheating on me."
Liz started crying and then ran into our room. I followed her in.
"Liz, I'm going to spend the night in my office. I want you to find someplace else to live by next weekend." She really started sobbing.
