I’m a bit bummed out right now, I must admit. All I can do is think and cry out for the chance to know and experience what it’s like to carry a child, to have a child and to raise a child. To watch it grow, to watch it learn, etc. But what will happen when he gets home? For the third day in a row, we’ll screw and he won’t get off and God will continue to ignore my prayers.

I keep thinking of that woman Shelly told me she knew. It was so meant to be for this woman, who had a period every 7 years only, to have a child. Why not us? I get all my periods, so why can’t it be meant to be for me to get pregnant? Why can’t it ever, for once and for all, be meant for me to have a normal sex life where my husband cums regularly, and for me to have a pre-thought-of dream come true? Yes, California, which was a pre-thought-of dream came true, as did his cumming, but I want a child way more than I could’ve ever wanted to go to CA, and his cumming doesn’t mean as much if it’s never gonna result in a baby. Yes, his cumming makes me feel a bit more normal and like I’m satisfying him more, but I’d feel a lot more normal if he’d cum regularly and if it’d make a kid.

All I know is that I still don’t see what I did so wrong to deserve this curse that’s been hanging over me, whether it’s a family curse, one that’s pitted just on me, or whatever. People who have done worse than me go on to have kids. So why must I be sentenced to life without just one child? Just one child! When will I ever be allowed to move on? When will old patterns be put to rest? (The fact that there’s always something out of the ordinary as far as sex goes with anyone I’ve had sex with and the fact that there’s always a problem with my getting something I dream of the most and want worse than anything else). Can’t I just have a top long-term dream come true? Can’t I just have a normal sex life?

And also, I’m still not sure whether or not Tom really has gone back to his old ways and has gone back into escalating the teasing, but it looks that way. I mean, yesterday was weird. First he makes me wait on him, and then he was using me as an excuse again.

To start from the beginning, what was probably a stolen car was parked by our house. The cops came to dust it for prints, then to tow it away. Meanwhile, Tom had just got home and he said he wanted to cool off, then go to the bathroom. Then he got out of the bathroom and I thought he was ready for sex, but then with a grin on his face, he said we had to wait a while in case the cops knocked on the door wanting to know if we knew anything about the car. So then I went and played computer games. Then he came in and told me that in case I didn’t know, he thinks that we may have jumped into it too soon yesterday, so he just wanted to unwind and relax a bit more first. 

Then, why didn’t he say that to begin with?

Then we finally got into bed and he said he wanted to relax there first, too, and I said OK, give me a signal to let me know when you’re ready to get started. I thought he was ready and it seemed I got him plenty hard enough by hand, but then when he went to go in there, he deflated. At first I wondered if the fan was drying me up (we’ve cranked the cooler down and blasted the fan on us so he can’t use his being too hot as an excuse), but then he said I wasn’t dry. He just hadn’t been fully hard or ready and I had jumped the gun on his signal. Then why didn’t he say so? I asked him this and he said he figured he’d try, anyway. So I said that there was always tomorrow and he asked if I wanted to continue. I reluctantly agreed while I was thinking - you guys are never gonna succeed, nothing’s gonna ever change, you’re feeling teased and played with by this curse and by Tom, so just go swimming or something. However, he did get in there shortly after and I was like - thank you, God! I couldn’t believe the tables turned and he got in there and was pleading in my mind for there to be no catch, but sure enough, there was. There always is. Of course, that catch was his not cumming. He asked if I was OK and I said yes, but then how did he use me as an excuse to stop this time? By saying he felt like my lower gut was tense. Please! That’s when he claimed to have had a mini get-off, but I don’t know. I just don’t know. I want to believe him, but how much of what he said and did was truly sincere and honest and not meant to tease me? Or to get out of the possibility of my conceiving, so he wouldn’t have to deal with me having a miscarriage or having it? And, how much of it wasn’t him at all trying to tease me and control what happens? How much of it was or wasn’t God or this curse?

He may as well have another number two again, where he gets in there and doesn’t cum, cuz if he came today, I really think it’s too late, so that’d turn it into a number 3 where he cums and I get my period and my prayers ignored.

Later...

We’ve had a cooling spell where the temps are only in the low to upper 90s and of course, that brings the kids out to scream where the dogs live. So, I decided that I didn’t want to listen to them scream and that I’d give the pool a break during the cooler spell since I got a slight burn yesterday.

Again a number two, where he got in but didn’t cum. Still, I am in a very good mood. Maybe that’s cuz we just made the first major accomplishment towards trying to get me pregnant if I’m OK and if nothing up there will stop us. We screwed the 3 days that are most likely for me, so that’s got me feeling better, and the fact that Tom wants to screw 3 days earlier next month (a total of 6 days in a row). Besides the kid we want, it’s fun for us both and I don’t miss wanting more sex.

I’m not mad at God, as I thought I’d be, for not helping him to cum and for me to conceive (at least he got in there and I had been worried about that), cuz I realize that it may take time for God and I to establish a relationship. In other words, I guess one can’t go from cussing God out to trying to get closer to him overnight after they’ve come to believe that it was a devil and not God who had a part in the bad things I’ve gone through, the not getting pregnant up till now, etc. So, I think he’s gonna want to test my faith and consistency with my prayers to him before he fully forgives, not forgives, but before he’ll be more likely to listen to my prayers and to do something to help us. I only began praying steadily to him about two weeks ago, so no, I don’t have any hard feelings towards him.

I think next month, will be better. Tom is getting closer to going over the edge and I think that by next month things will be OK with that.

Another thing that’s got me in a good mood is that I agreed to try to quit smoking if he’d agree to keep the sex going, cum as regularly as he can and go to a doctor with me in the new year if we haven’t had any luck by then. I told him why I thought this would help me and help us as a couple, but that I didn’t want him to go along with anything that made him feel either controlled or pressured or whatever. He agreed, though. I’m sure we can still keep up the sex and see a doctor in the New Year, even if I don’t succeed, but this will hopefully increase my chances. Naturally, though, it goes without saying that I hope we won’t need a doctor and that I’m still superstitious and would fear a miscarriage, but we all have to take chances in life and I want to move on and continue to do all that can possibly be done to get the child we want, and I’m sure Tom agrees.

Perhaps the fact that I’m feeling more uppity, hopeful and positive is just a big fat joke and I’m being a bit delusional here for nothing, but I can’t help it and it’s better than crying every other day like I spent way too many years doing.

It’s just that it comes down to these things: I want my husband to be happy, as he is my number one. So much so, that if he came out and said a child would make him unhappy, I’d be sad and sorry he felt that way, but so be it. The other things it comes down to are that I want regular and consistent sex, to please and satisfy my husband, and for us to have a child.

Tom told me I can talk about the things that mean so much to me as much as I want, but I’m working hard and will continue to work hard at talking about it less negatively and I shall close this entry now, without a harsh word to God. And without any suspicious feelings towards my husband.

I forgot to mention yesterday’s dust devil. It was quite wild. A dust devil is where there’s a small stream of wind that gushes through. Almost like a mini-tornado. Once, Tom and I were in the pool and the trees across the street were really whipping, but the trees behind us were perfectly still. Yesterday, however, I was sitting out tanning, the wind was dead calm, then all of a sudden it was incredibly windy for a few minutes, then it went dead calm again.

Why aren’t I sad and thinking to myself - God hates me? He didn’t hear a word of my prayers, and if he did, he doesn’t give a damn, I’ll never have a kid, etc. Well, I’m just not feeling that way and it’s better than that constant depression I had for so long. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’ll never have a child, and I’ll always have my times where I’ll cry about it and I’ll be sad to have to miss out on a child, and I’ll feel it’s unfair and that something up there doesn’t like me and wants to always control me, but at least I don’t have to live where it’s always making me cry. I know Tom could cum every day and that it still wouldn’t and couldn’t impregnate me and neither could a doctor and I know my prayers will always go unheard. Or at least ungranted, but at least I feel that I’m well on my way to being able to deal with that much better so I can have a happier life.

I also think that some kind of agency should uncover the truth about that prayer thing. I mean, that is really really bad; to tell someone their asthma’s gone and that they will have a kid cuz God answers all their prayers, etc.

And why do all these preachers, or whatever they’re called have to yell? They scream out their messages and speeches. Can’t they speak in a normal voice? After all that shouting, it’s a wonder they even have a voice left.

She was also full of it about sending that literature, but I don’t want it. Cuz if Tom saw it, I’d feel I had to explain how I got it and it’s probably all bullshit. I also saw this woman claiming that those who are defeated in life choose to be. I’m sorry, but I did not ask to be defeated by my parents, the system, the NHA, or people like Scott M. I did not choose for there to be no child in this house at the moment. I mean, come on! If a guy’s walking down the street minding his own business, then gets jumped and beaten, did he choose this? Does a woman choose to be raped?

To back up to what I said some paragraphs ago, well, I think that yes, a doctor could get me pregnant. But do I think that an evil force would leave it alone and let it stay there for 9 months? No.

Still, so what if I’m only kidding myself by being happier? I’ll take as many happy days as I can get after all the days of sadness I went through. I don’t miss always being so emotional and feeling like I ought to just drop dead. There will always be a void in my life. There will always be a missing link in my life. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be miserable all the time about it like I was miserable about all kinds of things back east all the time.