My balls are fine, Rob. Thanks for asking.

In the end, it wasn't about the potential pain and discomfort. It wasn't about the fear of the doctor sticking a needle in my scrotum. It wasn't about some antiquated notion of masculinity being related to reproduction. In the end, we just weren't ready to make such a permanent decision.

This past Friday was supposed to be the day I had my vasectomy. A few weeks ago, however, I called and canceled the surgery. From the moment I scheduled it, I'd had this weird feeling of anxiety. I couldn't get over the thought that maybe I was acting in haste. I talked it over with Alecia, and we both agreed that perhaps it wasn't the best time to make a decision like this. After all, we were both exhausted--physically and emotionally. We were barely surviving the second child. The thought of a third seemed unbearable. But who knows if we'll still feel that way a year from now, or in five years? We can't even figure out where we're going to live in a month. How can we decide right now whether or not to finalize our family?

We both agreed to table the discussion until we someday get to a point where we're getting more than four hours of sleep per night (cumulative). As soon as we agreed that I should cancel the appointment, I felt this wave of relief come over me. And, again, it had nothing to do with any fear I may have of the surgery. Alecia will tell you that I don't get squeamish about that stuff. I was the one eating solid food just hours after getting four wisdom teeth pulled (two of them impacted). I'm the one who never used my pain medication for the aforementioned operation, or for my broken hand. (Anyone know what to do with two bottles of vicodin?) I'm also the one Alecia busted sticking needles in myself to try to get rid of a cyst last year. I don't really worry about stuff like that.

This decision is all a matter of timing. We just don't think it's the right time to close the door on the idea of having more kids.

Speaking of surgeries, however, I may have canceled my vasectomy, but I still have another operation scheduled for Wednesday afternoon. After years of humiliation and scorn (mostly from my own family), I'm finally getting my horn removed. I plan to shave my head before the procedure, at which time I'll take lots of pictures. It will be the only way for most of you to see my horn, since my hair usually covers it. I just hope my coworker was wrong when he suggested my horn may be the key to my strength, like Samson's mane.

I suppose we'll find out Wednesday...