The freeloader did stay the night last night as I figured he would, cuz he slammed his way out at 10 AM for the first of his many weekend trips.

So far the cloudy and cool weather is in my favor and hopefully, there’ll be no outside activities.

Later...

Today was a shitty day, but it’s getting better. It has nothing to do with the freeloader, though. This weather will keep them indoors and quiet.

Tom still doesn’t feel well. He’s very congested. I just wish I knew why he gets so many colds. Is it just God adding another thing to keep us from spending much time together? Tom says he works in an enclosed environment so colds do circulate.

I’ve now stepped up to being in between spots and a very light flow. Tomorrow I’ll have a full flow for sure. Tom says it’s normal for a woman to have erratic periods. Well, this sure is bizarre for me. I’ve never been a week late.

Also, I have so many mixed emotions about this baby/sterility thing. With the infrequent sex and the DES, and a God who doesn’t give a shit, I’ll never have a kid. I have mixed emotions about everything revolving around it. I don’t feel the need or the want for sex more often than once a week, but it’d help if you were trying to get pregnant. Also, it’d help if he’d get off more, but he just won’t do that. So there’s the fact that we can’t have sex too often cuz of our schedules and busy lives, then there’s the fact that he rarely cums, then there’s the DES, God’s unwillingness to help. There’s no way I could ever have a child. A part of me still feels I shouldn’t have a child after seeing what Larry, Tammy, and others go through what they go through, and knowing how hectic and tiring it is. And how would I ever be able to handle it in the first place? And I feel like - if something up there’s so bent on punishing me and controlling my body, I ought to go right along with it and not do anything about my problem by seeing a doctor, and I ought to control my body, too, by not eating or something like that. I’m sick of having my life decided for me. I’m sick of having no say in personal matters. Or with most matters that concern me, actually. And people say life is what you make it? Well, I wanted to make my life as a mother, as well as a wife, and I can’t do that.

I try to tell myself to make myself feel better, and so as to feel less afraid of this controlling outer source that could do this to a woman, that it’s all for the better. That whatever’s up there is just looking out for me and not giving me something I couldn’t handle. I’m probably right when I say that God’s denied me a child due to his belief that I could never handle it, etc., but what about my right to choose? It should still be up to me. And what if I’m wrong? What if I wouldn’t be swapping one misery for another by having a child? What if I could handle it? What if I’m really missing out here by not seeking help?

Tom was encouraging me earlier, saying that instead of complaining about it, I should do something about it. Well, I am. I’m finally gonna put my foot down and risk God retaliating for my going against his plans for me. I know a child isn’t at the end here, and that a doctor can’t help me, but no more putting off going to a doctor and having that doctor tell me it’s hopeless. I’ll go through the hassle, I’ll take the time, the testing, etc. Instead of sitting on my ass and telling myself why I shouldn’t want/have a kid, and telling myself I can’t fight God and win, I’ll just go let a doctor tell me that. Let a doctor tell me there’s nothing they can do. That’s the only way I’m gonna know for sure if I really truly am right about my theories about God and the condition of my female parts.

God, or this evil, controlling, non-empathetic thing may not let me win in the end when it comes to my biggest dreams, whether they were past dreams, present ones, or future ones, but I’m not gonna let it win either. I will fight for a child until I either get that child or am told by an expert that I can’t have one.

Yesterday there was a letter that came from Colorado. It was from a girl to a guy, and naturally, this girl’s gonna get some pretty strange mail from this guy. A whole 6 pages of wacky stuff. I grabbed and copied a few pages from the Oswego St. file and mixed it up a bit.

Anyway, it’s off to listen to music, read some of my library book, and do some proofreading.