After several complicated pregnancies, we booked my husband’s vasectomy. It was the obvious choice.

Uwe Krejci/Getty Images My then husband and I had never talked about vasectomy as birth control.   We wanted a big family, but after two high-risk pregnancies, we decided it was time to stop.   His vasectomy took about 15 to 20 minutes.

  When we’d married in our early 20s, my now ex-husband and I imagined having a big family. He’s one of nine siblings, and while we both agreed nine was far too many for us, we loved kids and couldn’t wait to start having our own.  I got pregnant within a few months of getting married.

We bought baby gear and announced my pregnancy to all of our friends and family. We didn’t expect how hard pregnancy were going to be for me, or that he’d end up with a vasectomy.  Tough pregnanciesOne of my best friends got pregnant at around the same time, and we talked about the playdates we’d have and how great it would be raising our babies together.

Her pregnancy progressed, and she gave birth to a beautiful little girl. I miscarried.  My second baby arrived prematurely at 32 weeks.

She was relatively healthy for a premature baby, but still had complications from her early birth and several weeks in intensive care before we could bring her home.  When I got pregnant a third time, my doctor immediately enrolled me in a drug trial designed to prevent premature birth. The trial made me feel reassured.

Then, at 10 weeks, I started to bleed.  I was miscarrying again. With my husband busy at work, I drove straight to my parents’ house.

I didn’t want to be on my own if I miscarried, and the stomach cramps felt similar to what I’d experienced before. My dad brought me a hot chocolate as I lay on the couch waiting for something to change and trying hard to be OK with whatever happened.  Incredibly, I didn’t miscarry that day.

But over the next few months, I bled and had contractions on and off. Every time I thought, “This is it. Now it’s over,” it would settle down again.

 I had to go on bed restAt 24 weeks, when the baby was old enough to survive if she was born early, my care changed. I was placed on bed rest with strict instructions to go to the hospital if I had any bleeding at all. With every emergency rush to the hospital, my stress levels rose.

My husband sat beside the hospital bed and gripped my hand as we waited for hours. One day I arrived home from a week in hospital only to be rushed back in a few hours later. Friends and family bought gifts of tiny preemie outfits.

My husband and I made plans for how we would juggle the weeks in NICU with a 4-year-old.    When little Rosa was born at 38 weeks, completely healthy and basically full term, everyone was amazed. I was amazed too, but months of bed rest and worry had taken their toll physically and emotionally.

I knew I couldn’t do it again.  My husband agreed.    In the vasectomy clinic, I sat next to him as he filled out the paperwork.

We’d been referred to a private clinic, and it felt nothing like the sterile, sparsely decorated public hospital we’d gotten to know. The clinic’s waiting room — with its soft, expensive-looking furniture, indoor plants, and calming classical music — made me feel like we were booked to see a psychologist, not a surgeon.  They called us both into the surgery, where I was allowed to watch the procedure.

The surgeon joked and chatted while he performed the vasectomy, and within 15 to 20 minutes, it was all over. It hadn’t been the plan, but we’re lucky to have two healthy, beautiful girls. For us, a vasectomy was the easy and obvious choice.

Read the original article on Insider.