My name is Alex Gomez. I am 39 years old, and I earn my living as an electrical technician for a construction contractor based in Austin, Texas. Fourteen years ago, I undrwent a vasectomy at a private clinic located near San Antonio.
The motivation behind it was straightforward… and, admittedly, a bit selfish: I had a profound fear of poverty. At that point in my life, I was just finishing the grueling process of paying off a massive debt. It had been caused by the collapse of one of my father-in-law’s business ventures. Furthermore, I watched my friends have one child after another, and I saw their financial stability and their lives begin to fall apart. My wife, Lucy Hernandez, and I sat down to have a calm, serious discussion back then. We agreed on a “long-term plan” to minimize our financial burdens.

The doctor assured me it was a minor, routine procedure. He said a few days of rest was all I needed, and everything would be perfectly fine. I clearly remember taking that official confirmation document and tucking it into a drawer as if I were puting away a key… a key that was capable of locking away a certain version of the future forever.

Since that day, our life together has been peaceful and quiet.
Lucy eventually opened a modest beauty salon in Round Rock, while I spent my years working on various construction projects, traveling from one job site to another.
We did talk about the possibility of having children every once in a while… but the subject would always eventually fade away.

Lucy never put any pressure on me.
Only occasionally, she would stand in the doorway of her salon, quietly watching the neighborhood children play in the street.
I always interpreted that silence as a sign of her acceptance of our choice.