OK, time to come clean. Yes, all the shit I’ve said about no longer wanting a kid is bullshit. I thought it’d help me. Especially in light of what happened with Larry, but I’m only kidding myself by saying I don’t want a child. I may have my fears, doubts, and worries about a child, know I’d be forever fat and tired, but there isn’t anything I want more, other than to be with Tom forever. I had tried to convince myself, though, that I didn’t want a kid, cuz I still don’t see how that’s possible and allowable by God, but Tom was right; you can’t convince yourself of something you don’t believe.

Tom and I had a talk last night that I think really may help us both. We made a deal with each other as far as what to do on our part to help us both. My part is to not deny I want a kid and to talk about it as much as I need to, so as not to end up bottling it up till I get so angry, frustrated, and upset that I feel like I just want to drop dead. He said if I do this, it’ll help him cum more often. I warned him, though, that if I spoke about it as often as it was on my mind, that could easily be a daily thing. He said it’s no problem. It’s no problem if I talk about it and even if we disagree, but when I blow up from holding it in, that creates problems. This way I won’t appear so negative and get all emotional, cuz it does take up less of our time to talk about it in a stable mood, than for him to calm me down out of a fit about it.

I always had the feeling that this year would either be full of nightmares (one of them including a doctor confirming my sterility), or it would turn out to be the great year I felt it’d be. If it does turn out great, I hope that it’ll include us finding out I’m pregnant.

Also, this may sound funny, but I always believed that if a kid were meant to be, I’d be around 32 years old and the first year that did pop into my head was 1997. Of course, I don’t have to remind you what Robin says about it. She wholeheartedly agrees with Tom. Tom said that at the end of February, which will be right before my appointment, he’d like us to get a home pregnancy test. He says this way we’ll know if I stand anywhere different than I ever have before. He said he doesn’t mean to make me angry, of course, and he’s not saying it’ll be positive for sure, but we can at least experiment with it, get to know it and how it works and its accuracy rates, etc. Rugg will at least know we’re trying, too, cuz she’s no doubt gonna ask me about possible pregnancy just like the nurse did when I go in there griping about water.

So, how do I feel about the pregnancy test? I have mixed emotions, naturally. My heart hopes it’s positive ASAP and we both want a child really bad, but my head and logic tell me that I’m just fantasizing and dreaming and that it isn’t meant to be. Like I said, though, it’s OK to dream. That’s what dreams are for. Nonetheless, I still hope he’s right about my being OK, but my mind does go back to that dream, though. Could it be a premonition? Or was it just a dream? Oh, I hope it was just a dream, but something’s nagging me in my gut as if to say, Beware! Keep out of Never Never Land. This is a dream of reality. 

Yeah, well, unless a doctor does confirm my worst fears and unless Rugg tells me I need my parts stripped, I’ll remain in Never Never Land. Hell, I’ve been most of my life, anyway. It’s just that God delivering us the final blow to our dreams and snatching all hope away and finalizing it in some way seems just his style. It’s just like something he’d do to me. He’s always had a problem when it came to the things I wanted most and with my choice of occupations.

God, just give us a break, will you? Lighten up. Be fair for once!

Anyway, I just know deep down that this will be the year I either conceive or my belief becomes more evident than ever before. I’d just want to die if I turned out to be as right as I’ve always been so far. There’d just be no use in sticking around on this earth and I’d feel like I denied and took away so much from Tom. I am not gonna continue to live my life according to God’s standards and his rules and his way. I am not gonna be what he wants me to be and live my life for him. I’m going to live my life for Tom and I and not settle. If I were a settler, I would be a housekeeper for sure and I’d still be with people like Brenda.

I thought about Larry’s dying and looked at it in a new light. OK, what happened was tragic and they’ll all have to live with it forever, but they did have 16 wonderful years with him. I wonder, if they had to do it all again and knew they could have just 16 years with him, would they? Or would they not have had him? Maybe knowing they had those 16 wonderful years with him helps them to deal with their loss of him. And their belief (especially Sandy’s) that he’s now in a better place, which I hope is true. In other words, I realize that I can’t keep worrying about the what-ifs. If God’s gonna kill any child we could have whether it was unborn or born, he’s gonna do it then. Meanwhile, I guess it’s silly to worry about that possibility. Nothing in this world’s guaranteed. Nothing but my love for my husband.

Evie’s gonna have her baby any minute now. Now I know she told me she and David didn’t want or plan their kids, but I’m so glad they’re having children. I hear they’re a bit goofy, but it’s just so nice to see parents like them. It’s quite refreshing after knowing that 80% of today’s parents are either doped up or killing people if they’re not beating, molesting, or cutting down their kids left and right. I mean, there’s no comparing guinea pigs and rabbits to kids, but my animals piss me off at times and get on my nerves. I yell at them or remove what they’re using to drive me nuts for a while, but I couldn’t imagine beating the holy shit out of even them or cutting them down, if they could understand more words than no, get down, come here, their names, and also, my kissing them and the sound of the refrigerator or plastic.

Well, I just hope all works out. We plan to have more fun and I plan to keep talking and he plans to have that method help him fire more. I just hope my worst fears never get confirmed by either time or a doctor’s word. Even if I feared that all my life, nothing in my past, present, or future could make me more depressed than having that nightmare be realized like never before, other than if anything happened to Tom. My life would be a hell of a lot more “over” than it could ever be with a child.