Heavier Things

Isn't science an awesome and terrible thing?  To be able to mutilate our body in such a life altering way.  To play God.  To cut the channel that leads to life.  (I did mention, didn't I, I like dramatics... heehee).

Josh sent me a long, lovely email.  He is certainly verbose.  I'm going to have a letter writing complex, I can tell.

Essentially, he drew a line.  He can tell he's going to fall hard for me, but he needs me to be honest with myself.  He does not reference his vasectomy, but I know it's what he's referring to.  His last year long attempt at a relationship ended, in part, because of his inability to have children.


My response has to be, "I don't know."

That will have to be okay for now.  If it's not something he's comfortable with, that's okay too.  I'm preparing for that.

There's so many reasons I'm not ready to say, "I'm happy to be with you."

1.  HELLO, JOSH!  We've only spent a day together.  SHEESH!  How do I know if you always leave the toilet seat up, or if you are mean to your mom?  These are important factors!

2.  I don't know what that looks like.  If a man chooses in his 20's to close the door on more children, is there room in his heart to love mine like his own?  This is important.  This is all important.

3.  Am I finished?  Am I well and truly content if I never have another child?  Would I have weaned my baby when I did?  Will my heart hurt every time I hold another person's baby?  Will I hit menopause and have a midlife crisis over it?  I DON'T KNOW.  It's too soon to tell.

4.  Will I always wonder what might have happened if I walked away and kept looking? 

I just don't know.  How does one know such a thing?  So, I'm about to write as verbose a reply as I can, saying basically three words.  I. don't. know.