“Dear Dads of the world:
Handsome, wonderful, amazing, giving dads…
Remember when your wife, your lady, your partner, was pregnant? Vomiting up everything, feeling sick from the smell of meat… wanting to eat chalk and smell petrol (maybe that was just me). Remember how she was exhausted? How she couldn’t see her feet? How she felt like a turtle who was stuck on her back and couldn’t get up?
When she cried because she couldn’t tie her shoelaces?
When she got gestational diabetes and had to constantly check her sugar level and inject herself? Horrible, wasn’t it? You watched on so helpless…
Remember she spent time in the hospital because she had hyperemesis gravadium (no, not the book from Hogwarts)… where she was so sick she hated life? You felt so bad for her.
Remember you watched your wife give birth? That beautiful baby who ripped her a new one? Remember? She got stitched up and couldn’t walk straight for weeks? You felt so sore looking at her.
Or remember when she was gutted like a fish and had a screaming baby removed from her body and was stitched up for hours, losing blood? Major abdominal surgery, you were in wonder of her strength.
Remember how she cried breastfeeding because it hurt so bad and was up all night with a colicky baby? How amazing is she? So amazing.
Remember that? Remember how supportive you were? How wonderful you were to her.
Now, she says she’s done having babies because she’s so blessed with her beauties and she couldn’t possibly go through another experience. Her body simply can’t take it.
And although she’s only fertile once a month, for a quarter of her life, she is forced to take a pill that makes her gain weight and go crazy, which puts her off ever having sex.
Or an injection in her arm that makes her lose her hair.
Or a rod in her arm that can slip out of place and make her bleed nonstop for months.
Or a thing that goes into her uterus and make her body slam anyone who takes her parking spot.
You know what I’m talking about, you wonderful, fantastic dads. You’ve seen her throw a vase at your head because you told her onions make you gassy and you can’t eat her dinner… you know.
After all she’s been through, pregnancy and child birth, you’ve been so great and supportive and now she’s done and doesn’t really want to take that pill that makes her psycho? Or that horrible rod, or a metal prong up her clacker.
You know what you can do for her? Make her life really easy? Considering all she’s done and been through…
Suck it up and get a vasectomy.”
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