I have decided to stop the daily praying to God. Since I’ve been doing this, there have just been too many problems. My lungs have been worse and I’ve been more depressed, so I’m hanging it up. Whatever it is up there that’s always dealt with me and my life, be it God or the devil, it doesn’t give a shit about me, so why should it start giving a shit now? Let it not give a shit. Let it think I don’t deserve a child. Let it not help me after I’ve tried to help myself. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let it hurt me by this and rule my life any more than it already has. God may control my body, but I’m gonna be the one controlling my mind for once. I’m not gonna waste my time bullshitting myself by telling myself I’ll have a child. I’m gonna be strong and tell myself what’s meant to be and what’s not and just deal with it. Life has to go on. If anything, I think I’d have a hell of a better chance at telling myself I don’t want a kid and why I shouldn’t have one, than trying to convince myself I will have one. I said I was gonna make a game out of what’s reality here, so maybe it’s time to start writing and thinking in terms of reality - that it’s a good thing it’s not meant to be, I’d be just like my mother, have no freedom, the marriage would suffer, etc. Then I can really feel blessed by telling myself I have a God-given built-in birth control system for my own good and protection and be glad that we can always “miss it.”

Not only can I not force Tom to cum, to go to a doctor (which wouldn’t help) and to want a child more than he does, I can be grateful for what I do have and for how things are and just go with the flow of them. There’s no use fighting fate and I’ll admire my strength and determination to walk away from and stop fighting fate and dreams that are just dreams.

Tom was really tired yesterday and I had asked him if he was glad that things wouldn’t be changing and he said no. Well, I know he is glad that things won’t be changing and at least he knows and admitted that.

Anyway, it’s time to think of him for once and not for myself. If he’s happy not cumming and if he really doesn’t want to go to a doctor or be a dad, then God and I will be happy for him that he’ll get his way.

Enough baby talk for now and onto other things and onto real life.

Marla said she told Andy the same things I’ve told him. That the pot makes him too air-headed and forgetful and that he’s looking for Mr. Right in all the wrong places. When it comes to guys, friends and roommates, he has this particular fascination with the druggie. I know, though, that it’ll be hard for him to find someone that’s clean, even if wanted that. Most folks just aren’t too clean and he would have a hard time finding a drugless person as he himself is a user. A drugless person isn’t usually gonna go for a user.

Boy, was it a scorcher out there today. A high of 114º. The pool is like bathwater.

Tom picked up a nice appointment book. He was gonna use his laptop, but he hadn’t really kept up on it like I thought he wouldn’t. The keys were screwed up, though. Well, hopefully, he won’t waste this nice new appointment book he got and will organize his time better with it. He had said he wanted to do this to free up more time. It’s to divide the time spent with me/us/household stuff and time spent with his mom, in a way that’ll allow him to use time better.

So far, we’ve still been having more sex which is nice, but I’m curious to see how long he can keep up with it, even though I know his cumming days are over. Or are over for quite a while.

I wonder, though, why did he want to count my cycle last month and this month? He had said that he didn’t think that was necessary and I agreed to go along with that, so I don’t know what he’s up to other than teasing or God only knows what. He had said we’ll start 3 days earlier next month, but that’d be really pointless as long as he chooses not to cum.

I caught Gizzy last night. He had been trapped in Tom’s little room, so he opened the door a crack at about 10:30, and about two hours later, I trapped him in the kitchen by the stove.

Whenever we get a hamster (and I expect Tom will have me “wait” on this), we’ll probably set him free. That way I don’t have to worry about his escaping and it’s a bitch to try to clean the cage or to try to move an animal (if we bomb) that’s wild and that just cannot be tamed. I can’t just go pick him up like I can with the pig and the rabbit. And like I could with a hamster.

Later...

Oh, so next door’s getting in at around this time these days, huh? At least I only knew so due to hearing the car door, but that’s probably cuz it wasn’t him. I think it was her female friend. I can’t wait to see what he does the next time he’s over there, but I just hope to hell he never ever moves back in there, cuz then there’s gonna be lots of trouble around here and I’d rather not have to deal with it. I know that if I really wanted to or needed to I could make them scared enough of me to not play their music above a whisper and to not do anything to the house or in the way of complaints, but I’d rather not have to deal with the stress of that. They’re not worth it. No one is. I’d just rather have my sleep and peace around here without having to kick ass for it or scare anyone for it. It’s like with how I bitch about how people shouldn’t have to work for a child. Well, no one should have to work for peace around their house, either. Not unless they do have a child, cuz that goes with the territory. If we had had a child, we certainly wouldn’t have been able to hear ourselves think around here, that’s for sure.

OK, I think I’ll go get some proofreading done now.

Later...

As I sit here, I do some thinking and I wonder - did I ever really want a child as bad as I said? Well, the answer’s yes. If I could snap my fingers and be pregnant now I really would do so, even if God would be just as quick to snap his fingers and make sure I lost it. If Tom begged me to see a doctor as time passed without a baby resulting, and if he was encouraging all the way through due to my belief that God would foul it all up for us, then I would go to a doctor. But this isn’t gonna happen. He can live without a child just fine and even though he says he wants one, any guy that can say “OK, fine,” when a woman says they won’t have a child, as I’ve done at times, can’t be all that serious about wanting one. After saying it was fine, I know he’d never have said one word pertaining to still wanting one or one word to try to change my mind and that tells me right there, that he was never that serious.

So, my point is, maybe it’ll be easier to give up than I ever thought it would (not that I have a choice), knowing he doesn’t want a child that bad and knowing a doctor couldn’t beat God for us and win. Maybe I just don’t think a child is worth the risk of God punishing me for going to a doctor’s office. And maybe a child’s not worth trying to “make” my husband want a child as bad as me and to cum more and this is something I certainly could never do anyway. Tom has to want to cum and to cum a lot and to want the child enough to see a doctor of his own free will. No one else can make him. He will not cum on command, therefore, if we went to a doctor now, in 5 years or 10 years, and they tell him to cum so they can either test his sperm or use it to fertilize an egg, there’s no way he’ll do this. It’s more important that he not cum for a reason and cuz some doctor said to (even if he agreed to it) than to have a child. So as long as Tom’s the way he is, we don’t have a fighting chance and we certainly don’t stand a chance against God who doesn’t give a shit and who won’t help us at all. God could’ve made sure we hit it right when he was cumming. Or he could’ve made sure one got away from his pre-cum and hit an egg, but no. God does not want to see us help ourselves. God does not want to help us. God does not want us to succeed.

As long as Tom’s gonna run around saying he’ll cum more and I’ll get pregnant, which is bullshit, then I can’t care enough to do anything more than I already have to try to get pregnant. If he came more or suggested a doctor to help him cum more and to see about what we could do to get me pregnant, then yes. I may care more and not feel so much like giving up. And this is regardless of the fact that I could never be allowed a child, anyway. Let him be the one to decide he wants a child and to suggest a doctor for once. I know this won’t happen as I said, but if it did, then I’ll go to the doctor and get a miscarriage. For now, though, as far as I’m concerned, my husband either subconsciously, consciously or both, doesn’t want a child that bad, so he doesn’t cum and he doesn’t push for seeing a doctor and therefore, I care less, knowing I can’t make him feel the way I feel.

Let him do what he does best - tell me he’ll cum more and I’ll inevitably get pregnant. Meanwhile, I’ll give up and call it the hopeless, closed chapter of my life that it always has been.

I downloaded 10 little cute kids’ games for drawing ideas. I still don’t have the smarts to unpack them, so hopefully Tom can do it soon.

I gotta go get him up soon.

Why do I have a feeling that the frequent sex we had was just to please me, as well as something else I recently wrote about, and that it’s coming to an end? Well, if he’s hoping I’m gonna beg him for it to pick up again, he’s wrong. I’m not gonna be teased or played with.

I’m recording a movie now too, so I can zip through the baby commercials all about home pregnancy tests, not doing drugs while pregnant, getting an AIDS test before pregnancy, etc.