I’m kind of tired today. I don’t think I slept quite 8 hours, but I’ll live.

When I got up at 9 AM, I found Tom asleep on the couch. I sent him into bed and on his way there, he said he left me a message explaining why he slept on the couch. He said that after my having a stressful day yesterday not knowing what to expect from next door, and since he’s really tired and will probably snore like hell, he’d give us a break while we were doing so well and sleep on the couch. That’s fine, as long as he doesn’t decide for me too much. I can decide what’d be best for me just fine. I want him to worry about himself more often.

Bill’s next door babysitting the mistake.

I made the window that this word processor is in smaller, so I can see the wallpaper changing behind it. It’s pretty cool.

I guess Tom and I are gonna go to the video store later. I don’t know for sure.

Some skanky Mexicans are doing the freeloaders’ yard and the yard across the street.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking of this fertility testing thing and all that. No, I do not want a child by any means as I used to. And it’s not so much the curiosity that’s an issue for me, either. It’s the right to choose that’s the issue. It’s kind of like the way I see abortion. First and foremost, people should be responsible and use birth control if they don’t want a kid or aren’t suitable for handling one, but since they don’t, at least a woman has a right to choose. It’s her body, her life.

I should’ve been born with just as much right as any other woman, but no, I never was born with a full bag of rights now, was I? It should’ve been up to me to say yes to a child like I would’ve been foolish enough to when I first met Tom up till about a year ago. And now it should be my right to say, nah. I don’t want a child. I like life too much and it’s something I could never handle. So, what kind of birth control should I use? The rhythm method? The rhythm method with rubbers used during mid-cycle? Rubbers all the time? Pills? IUDs? An injection?

Yes, it’s nice having a built-in, hassle-free birth control system, but still, it’s taking away my right to choose. I’ve been telling myself I don’t deserve the right to choose, because if I did, God would’ve given it to me in the first place, but that’s not true! That’s just not true! Yes, he feels I shouldn’t have the right to choose because he obviously doesn’t trust what my decision would’ve been a year ago, and yes, he’s looking out for me, but I am no less deserving than any other woman out there. I did nothing wrong to deserve to not have a right to choose just like any other woman. I do deserve to exercise my full rights as a woman. As a human being. If I had kicked some woman in the stomach and sterilized her and taken away her right to choose, then yes, I should have mine taken away too. If I had killed a child, then you bet I should be stripped of my reproduction rights, and I’d totally deserve it.

I try to tell myself, God was just doing the right thing and looking out for you by taking away your right to choose, because you know you’d have let yourself conceive if you could’ve, and therefore, you’d have gotten yourself into something you don’t have the physical or mental strength to endure, and you’d have either ended up dead or in jail for killing the poor, innocent child.

It’s not that easy, though. It’s just not that easy. Whether or not I choose to get into something I can or can’t handle should be my choice. Not God’s. It’s my problem if I bite off more than I can chew. I’m sick and tired of having God, fate, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, decide almost everything for me. Don’t I have some say in my destiny? First I couldn’t be the singer I wanted to be, then I couldn’t have the woman I wanted, then I couldn’t be a mother. Can Jodi be anything Jodi says she wants to be? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of the unplanned surprises I’ve received in my life have been wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them in for the world, but when does Jodi get to pick her destiny? See, I’m OK with not being able to move right now as much as we’d both love to. That’s because I know the choice is ours. We can choose to move, we have chosen to move, and when we can, we will move. If God fixed it so we had no choice but to stay in this house forever, then I’d be pissed. That would be wrong of him.

I guess it’s just a matter of opinion and where we each stand as individuals on different people and different situations. It’s easy to sit and listen to an infertile woman, regardless of her marital status or her financial status, that’s stable and able to handle a child, bitch about how she never got the right to choose, and that if having a kid was a mistake, it would’ve and should’ve been hers to make. But it’s not so easy to sit and listen to a 14-year-old who just had a kid say, hey! I made a mistake, but it was mine to make. That’s just not acceptable. It doesn’t cut it.

It’s not so much that I fear something up there would get me for going against its decision that I be sterile by going to a fertility clinic. It’s Tom. He’s just gonna keep on going along with my statements as to how normal our sex is, and he’s gonna both consciously and subconsciously fuck things up for me if I were to literally get off my ass and go try to seek some answers/rights. Normal? Our sex isn’t normal. It’s improved and I like it just fine the way it is, but even so, it’s not normal. We’re still managing to screw twice a week with him going inside me with no resistance, which is all good and normal, but he hasn’t cum in ages and I doubt he ever will again. Now, he’s welcome to never cum again if that’d make him happy, but that’s still not normal.

Maybe his refusal to cum wouldn’t be an issue, but I don’t know for sure. If they just started by testing me and found that the problem truly was with me, then he wouldn’t need testing, not that he would’ve gladly handed over a squirt of his cum in the first place. If they wanted to test us both at once, then I’m the only one they could test, since he wouldn’t cooperate. I asked him a long time ago and he says he would cooperate, but I’ve heard him say one thing and then do another enough times to know better.

Something tells me to keep my mouth shut, though. I don’t know why. I just know that at least for now, I must never make it known to Tom that I know he really hasn’t cum. Again, I don’t know why. It’s just instinct. I’m also curious to see how far he’ll take this lying about the cumming, too. I suppose it should worry me and make me wonder what else he could lie about, but it doesn’t. In his mind, he doesn’t need to lie about anything else, although if Kim came to visit, he’d have that jealousy all over again, and would lie and try to convince me that we ruined his life, made him oh so miserable, and nearly killed him.

The good thing about all this is, is that it’s not gonna affect my life in any bad way, hold me back, or keep me bitter forever. I’m very happy with my life despite my lack of right to choose and all that. I love my life and look forward to spending the rest of it with my husband and moving. I’ll probably never be thin again and we’ll probably never have an above-average income, but as long as we’re healthy and happy, that’s what counts. I thank God, or whatever may have had a part in the fact that I’ve never been more content with my life than I am now. I don’t miss the fits of rage that used to eat at me, nor do I miss the crying spells I went through. I hope to hell I never return to wanting a kid. That was really depressing, wanting something natural like that that I could never have.

Anyway, if I were to look at the whole thing from a rational, logical, realistic, practical point of view, I should forget about seeing any doctor about my so-called right to choose. There is no right to choose for me. I know they’d either not be able to tell me what was wrong, or that they’d tell me I was unfixable. I know I cannot be fixed. The purpose of being predestined to sterility is so you can never be fixed. The choice was taken away from me before I was even born.

Woke up at the usual 115 pounds, although Saturday’s treat and yesterday’s 400-calorie slice of pound cake, did catch up to me. I weighed 118½ pounds, but then after a water pill, I was 117 pounds, then 115 pounds when I got up. I’m gonna gain soooooo much weight in Vegas!

I finally shot some pictures of Ratsy. I hope they come out good.

From what it looks like after I just did a check, Tom hasn’t cum since around April 1st. Damn! That’s a long time. But actually, he has cum. Just not by me. Well, he knows I’m serious about not wanting a kid (along with the fears he’s always had) and won’t take any chances no matter how sure he is that I’m sterile. What a man, though! How many women could get such a wonderful man like that? One who’s willing to make such a sacrifice for her, and who could still be happy? I know he’ll never stray. He’ll always love me and me only, and if sacrificing orgasms for me is what he feels he should do, he’ll do it. He’d jump off a bridge for me, he loves me that much. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, either, if I could.

Later…

Just got done relieving myself with a nice stimulating, yet relaxing orgasm with my vibrator. Yeah, my appetite’s come back. Tom’s not the only one that’s not getting off when we screw. He just can’t be available to get me off the 2-3 times a day I need to get off, and he can’t get me off in the way that I can. I know it sounds mean, but right now, I feel as if I may never get off again with him. There’s just no thrill in it for me anymore, as much as I love him. I wonder if his not getting off goes beyond pregnancy fears. He’s said otherwise, but could he really be sick of me and not turned on by me anymore? I don’t look like I did when we first met, yet he swears to be just as attracted to me. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter because he said that sex is a mental thing for him and that he’s not turned on by what he sees with his eyes.

I dig what someone said in a movie I saw last night. They said, “Sometimes sex is better with people in your head, than with people in your bed.”

I think this is true!

I can’t believe this. How utterly great. It’s already just past 4:00 and no unavailable calls. Maybe letting them have it was the answer after all. At first, it made them all the more determined to get at me, not surprisingly, but maybe they got sick of being told off and maybe they’ll fuck off at least if only for a while.