Sometimes betrayal doesn’t knock, it kicks your chest open and spits in your face.I’m a 39-year-old father of two. I had a vasectomy three years ago. My wife and I agreed we didn’t want any more kids our finances were tight, and we were finally regaining our freedom. We even toasted to it over wine the night I had the procedure. I remember her saying,
“Now it’s just you, me, and peace of mind.”Fast forward to last year, she began acting strangely. Morning nausea, odd cravings, hiding in the bathroom. Then one day, she fainted. We rushed to the hospital, and the doctor smiled as he said, “Congratulations, you’re going to be a father again!”To read more,click here
