V is for Vasectomy

So, we have two kids. My husband was pretty clear when we had Bob that he thought two kids were the right number for him. I wasn’t sure I wanted more than one. As an only child and a new mother, I just could not picture having enough love for two children. And then we got pregnant again and I soon learned that what people say is true. Your love DOES multiply and not divide. Totally awesome. After Maggie was born people would ask me how many I thought we’d have and I would say twelve, we’ve got to try to keep up with our Amish neighbours. (Har, har). Or that Scott wants two and I want four, and we’re going to split it and have three.

But Scott still wanted just two. And I, having had a really hard time with my hips during my pregnancy with Maggie (I was unable to walk or lay down for a good chunk of my pregnancy) as a result of a Relaxin Overload felt that it would be selfish of me to go for more kids if it meant that I could be incapacitated for several months and unable to properly care for my two beauties.

We did a little bit of research and talked to a few people about vasectomies. It seemed like it would be a very easy procedure and that a lot of the people who had complications did things like move a piano or bone the day of the operation. You only have something like a 3% chance of having a rough go of it, or so the rumor went.

Well lucky us, as Scott got to be one of those lucky 3 in 100…..

After a lot of emotional discussion, Scott went in for his vasectomy on Monday, January 12th. He came home, and followed doctors orders and friends advice and took it easy. Laid on the couch all day, did not exert himself. He was feeling pretty sore by the end of the day and before bed he took a peek.

Not what he was expecting to see. His package was so badly bruised that it looked as though someone had coloured them in with a Sharpie. From abdomen to asshole, the bruising was solid black. And the swelling around his balls was… formidable. And there was a hard lump forming, not a small one either. And pain. Serious amounts of pain.

Scott got a post surgical hematoma. He had a little bleeder still drizzling when he was sewn up. Since the scrotum likes to stretch, it did just that and accommodated a fairly significant amount of blood before there was enough pressure for the bleeding to stop.

He still has this thing. A lump that stretches from his abdomen behind one testicle, giant, sore and VERY hard. Supposedly it was supposed to start softening up and getting reabsorbed by his body at day 10, but it is like day 17 now and it’s not budging yet.

Over two weeks off of work. Multiple doctors appointments, ultrasound appointment, trip to the specialist. Ice packs, Percocet, antibiotics and a lot of frustration, remorse and worry. Not exactly what we had planned or budgeted for.

Scott just went back to work today. If he worked a job that involved labour (like the guy doing our roof right now who had a similar problem with his vasectomy) we would have had to file for short term disability, no question. I know he’s having a rough go of it, as sitting forward in his chair puts a lot of pressure on the clot. Who knows when he’s going to feel up to having sex again, since any movement of his testicles makes him double over.

If we had known about the frequency with which complications like these can happen (it has got to be more than 3%, as once we started talking to friends about this experience, everyone seemed to know someone with a similar story) we would have looked into other options (like laser vasectomy) or simply decided to use natural family planning methods as long term birth control. We are so plainly anti-Western medicine and this experience has only reinforced our feelings.

WARNING GRAPHIC IMAGE BELOW.

Here is a small, well cropped image of the bruising.

Big ow.

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