Maybe seeing this movie was a dumb idea. It’s now got so many emotions and thoughts running through my head! At first, I thought, here’s this woman who got married at some point during her career, was all set to have a kid, but never got the chance cuz God allowed a sick employee of hers to shoot her. But me? I’ve got a very slim, but a chance nonetheless, if I’d just quit what-iffing and go to a doctor. Fuck putting my life on hold to visit my parents. Fuck making them proud. Fuck my being paranoid about Tom’s not wanting a kid deep in his subconscious and manipulating the doctors by not upping the amount of sex we have, by not giving them his cum, and by not doing whatever they suggest.

And then it’s right back to reality. No, I can’t have a kid. Not naturally, not by a doctor, not by adoption, and no, I do not have a chance. I do not deserve it, could never handle it, and God didn’t make me this incompetent and this sterile without a reason. I can’t go against his plans for me. I can’t defeat the purpose of our moving, which is so we can live in peace. I can’t be bogged down and risk this relationship. We can’t have more sex for reasons in and out of our control. A doctor can’t help me, whether or not we both cooperate. I couldn’t handle a child if one fell on me right now. I’ve been down that road before where I fought this hopeless battle so I know I cannot ever have a child and I’m not gonna set myself up to plummet again. Not now, not later, not in any way shape, or form. God knows what’s best for me. He knows what I can and cannot handle. He knows what I’m worthy of and yes, I do owe my parents a visit.

As far as a kid ever goes - I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. There’s no getting by that. I cannot have a child. No matter what we do, where we go, etc. God wants us to have sex infrequently for a reason. He wants Tom to cum rarely for a reason. And I don’t want my husband to feel he has to change on account of me. My dream of having a child was, is, and will always be 100% impossible.

I also believe that if my husband really wanted a kid all that bad (not that he’d run if we had one tomorrow), and if he really thought I could handle that, and could have a child in the first place, then I’m sure he’d push me all the more to do whatever it took to achieve a child. And I don’t mean he’d push me in a bad way. But I believe my husband knows deep down, but maybe not consciously, that his wife is not only as sterile as a doorknob but is in no way shape or form capable of motherhood.

So with this, I remind myself that it’s OK to have dreams, although this particular dream isn’t what I’d call much of a dream these days. Not after what I’ve seen my brother, sister, and others go through. Not with how much I appreciate and value my freedom, my sleep, my life, and want to move. I took all this freedom for granted for a while and I could never imagine giving it up and hell, I can barely keep up with my own self, let alone take care of something that doesn’t have fur or feathers.