Tom’s running some errands now, but I guess he’ll be in any second now.

Although I’m still doing better as far as my mental state goes, I’m rather depressed today. All this praying to God, listening to those who say we’ll have a kid, trying to tell myself things will work out, is just a joke. I know what I know. Dreams that have been dreams for years don’t just suddenly jump out at you and become a real-life thing. I’ve heard people say that they prayed for years to get stuff they’ve wanted. Well, I’ve been praying for years and I haven’t gotten what I’ve wanted, so that’s a sign enough that I’m asking for the impossible. There is just no way I’ll ever have a child. And there really is something up there that wants to see me hurt by this and that doesn’t like me.

I can’t believe I even brought up the idea of seeing a doctor next year. Like that’d really do us any good? Yeah right! Something hasn’t allowed me to become pregnant for a reason. Therefore, if any doctor sticks a fertilized egg in me, it’s just gonna be removed. Stolen. Taken away forever.

Another thing is, I know now for sure that Tom has gone back to not cumming and it’s of his own doing and his own desire to do so and I know this is a long-term thing. Meaning, if he ever cums again, we’re talking another 2½ years or so that he’s gonna refuse to cum. He can blame me, he can blame the heat, he can blame his racing heart, he can blame anything, but it’s his own choice and free will that’s doing this. This is why he’s been reassuring me that things are “perfect” and that I’m so great in bed. Cuz he doesn’t want me to feel guilty for something that he’s chosen to do. After thinking about it, I realized that it’s not only obvious that he’s quit cumming since it’s been two months since the last time he came, but there is no more room in my mind for doubt about this. I’m 100% sure he’ll either not cum again for a very long time or never again. Yeah well, there’s no way in hell I’m going to go to a fertility doctor, let alone both a sex counselor, as well as a fertility doctor, cuz I just couldn’t deal with it and it wouldn’t do me any good. I’d never win and get what I wanted.

I also know that God has a big part in this, too. Meaning, if he didn’t want Tom to quit cumming, he’d influence Tom, probably without Tom even knowing it, and Tom wouldn’t want to quit.

I also wonder if this having more sex lately is both a cover and a show. Perhaps it’s to ease his guilt and to compromise with me in his own way, by giving me more sex, cuz he knows he’s not gonna cum. And perhaps he said to himself, Well I don’t want to cum anymore and I don’t want to see her go through a miscarriage and I don’t really want a kid all that much, but to cover this up, I’ll give her sex more often with the hopes of her not suspecting the truth.

He said that the more he screws, though, the more he cums. Well, we’ve been doing an awful lot of screwing lately, so why isn’t he cumming?

People work building houses. People pay money for cars. But you can’t put a price on life. People aren’t supposed to work for and pay for kids. But if they must - why can’t some teenager work her ass off for it for once? And why can’t some murderer go out and “buy” a 5,000-dollar or more baby? I’m not gonna work for and pay for what God and nature intended for people to have naturally and effortlessly.

Later...

God, this business that calls all the time just doesn’t give the fuck up! It comes up as only unavailable on the box with no name or number and they only let the damn phone ring twice. Like most people can get to the phone that fast? I don’t think so.

When I got up at 10 AM I noticed that Gizzy escaped, since I took the Plexiglas sheets off of the top of the aquarium, which made it easier for him to get out. Tom noticed he wasn’t in his cage, too, a couple of hours earlier. So, Gizzy’s not happy with just his wheel and home, huh? Well, we talked about it and we’re gonna get a hamster. I’m tired of animals that can jump and escape so easily, whereas hamsters are kind of fat and bulky and can’t jump any better than guinea pigs can. I think Gizzy’s escaped through the large enough crack in the back door, but if I catch him, I’ll keep him till we can afford to get a hamster, then I’ll set him free. It’s time for him to return to the wild. I love him, but he’s too much trouble and just isn’t worth it.