Here we go again doing for others, but not for us. Putting others first. Tom’s gonna fix a leak in his Mom’s car. Fine. Great. What about the broken AC in our car? How far are we gonna have to get into the summer before he fixes it?

After he woke me up twice (once from snoring and then from talking in his sleep), I got up. Then he got up a couple of hours later and apologized for last night. He said he’s sorry, he’s not perfect, he does make mistakes, he didn’t express himself well, and he doesn’t want me to feel I can’t talk to him. Well, I’m sorry. I appreciate his apology, but talk to him? Hell no. He can’t handle it. He’s much too intelligent, also, to have expressed himself so poorly. I think this is another one of his sly, clever, cunning cover-ups, but I know better. He said and did just what he wanted. He didn’t want to hear what I had to say, even though I wasn’t blowing up, and he made me feel worse for it. He needs a major lesson in asking someone what’s wrong when he really doesn’t want to hear it. If he can’t handle the answer he gets and that he asked for, I don’t wish to talk to him about this subject again. I’m mad at myself too, for bringing it up. I should’ve known better, as I’ve said before. It even takes me a few times around to learn lessons, but I didn’t make the mistake of showing him my journal. I told him I had to write him up about all this and he said, “Well, of course,” in a sarcastic, knowing, yet funny way. I even asked him if he wanted to hear it, just to see what he’d say. He said no, not really, but if I needed to read it to him, OK. Yeah right! I don’t think so.

I still wonder occasionally, is he reading my journals? Did he stall on reading some of my stuff in the past, or today, to make it look like he wasn’t too eager to when he really is and is reading them? Or is it cuz he secretly keeps up on what I write, isn’t very fond of what I write, and that’s why he’s not so eager? Maybe he’s already read it and doesn’t want to read or hear it again. Although, wouldn’t most spouses be curious to read what their other half was writing about? Especially about them?

Once again, there’s no use in either talking calmly or blowing up over something that can’t be changed. I was never fated to have a child. All the bitching and crying and talking in the world can’t and won’t change that. And we can’t run to a doctor and expect to fight God and win. No person or doctor can interfere with God’s so-called work. He never heard my prayers. Never has. Never will. If I was heard at all by anything up there, it was no God. There’s either nothing up there or something not too good at all up there.

Things really are never going to change in any major kind of way. All those wonderful, surprising, unexpected events that happened from 1992-1994 were truly the end of the line. The party’s over. This is it. This is where I shall always remain. This is what’s meant to be. This is reality. There’ll be no career. There’ll be no child. This is it. I’ve peaked. This is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing; what I’ve been doing for the last few years. Nothing more. Nothing less.

When Robin gave me that bullshit line about 3-4 good things to come this year and a major change coming in a month, well, I wonder if one of these good things consists of my folks coming out? They may have sounded more serious than ever before, but I won’t believe it till I see them out here. Our talk the other day may have been just that - talk.

Tom and I did screw earlier, though. He didn’t cum and I knew he wouldn’t. For some reason, I can always tell when he’s gonna cum and when he’s not. I still wonder at times, did he really have a problem preventing him from cumming (positioning) up till last July? Or did he hold off till then? Could he now really cum almost every time we have sex? Or is he deliberately keeping it to about once every week and a half to two weeks? Well, if he’s ever been dishonest about something pertaining to sex, he’ll just boldly tell me he hasn’t lied about whatever, and he knows that’s all he has to do. I can’t prove otherwise. So, if there’s anything else he hasn’t leveled with me on, be it in the past or the present, I’ll never know. My husband’s too smart, too realistic and too logical to possibly believe I’m fertile. This is what makes me believe he may not want to come out and say so, cuz maybe he’d feel like he was slugging me with a hatchet if he did. He knows how much a child means to me, but can anything anyone ever said change God’s precious little work? No. Believe me, if I could know the answers to all my fears, doubts and worries, I’d want to know the answers so I could have an easier time moving on. Even though he hasn’t cum too often since last July, we should’ve hit it right by now. I’m curious to see what he does, though, from here on out. Will he put his actions where his mouth is and have more sex, if he really wants this kid as bad as I do, thinks I’m fertile and feels the same void I do? That just got me thinking about the possibility that maybe he’s trying to keep his amount of cumming down so we don’t find out so soon who’s right and who’s wrong, so he doesn’t have to deal with it if he’s wrong. Or have to see me have to deal with it. Why stall something like that, though? Is that where the instilling patience game comes in?

So many questions. Never any answers. I’m powerless. Powerless to get a job. Powerless to get pregnant. Powerless to be happy with the way things are. No matter what I think of, no matter what ideas I get, no matter how hard I try - I’m powerless. Something up there wants me to be powerless. Well, I’m not unhappy about the way things are, but I’m not happy about the way things are and I never will be. I believe I’ll always feel that incomplete void and miss never having a child.

Andy called yesterday and read me the article on the two Larrys’ accident. Judy sent it to him. It didn’t really tell me any more than I already know, but he’s gonna give it to me and when he does, I’ll copy it in here.

Later...

I like to watch reruns of old shows and an occasional movie, but Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t get through a set of commercials that don’t mention pregnancy, childbirth, etc. It’s like God’s aiming it at me, teasing me, taunting me. It’s everywhere! Yesterday I taped a movie so I could scan over the 4 or more baby/pregnancy/pregnancy test-related commercials (that doesn’t help a sterile woman feel any better to have rubbed in her face what she dreams of and what she cannot have). Then later, I went to turn on the TV just for a second to set up the timer for the second part of a movie, and what was there? A news report on the morning-after pill. Then I go fire up AOL to see if I have any mail, and what’s right in front of my face on the main menu? Oh, just a name guide for expectant parents. God’s shoving this in my face just like he did with males. The pattern, or reasons I should say, don’t fit. It doesn’t make sense, though. He shoved males in my face, cuz he was telling me and showing me all along that I wasn’t meant to be with a woman but rather a man. So, since I know he’s not trying to tell me I should be a mother, I feel like it’s got to be a tease. How amazing God weaves this world together and its people and its events in such a cruel, sick and unfair way. He has baby/kids everywhere in a time when their world is so liberal. He has baby/kid messages swarming all over the TV. Just in time for me to be, shall I say, at the peak of my sterility crisis. I don’t need any more rub-ins. I don’t need any more reminders. I can’t even walk into a store, a doctor’s office, anyplace, without seeing a magazine or bulletin board about something that’s got to do with pregnancy and childbirth. I asked myself if I just notice these things more due to being at the peak of this ordeal, but I don’t think so. I’m not imagining this. I didn’t imagine all those women who rejected me or all those males who hit on me.