It’s been ten days since my husband lost his job.

Ten days isn’t that long – but, it kind of is.  It really is when you live in a one-income household that was pinching pennies to begin with.  It really is when you had no backups.  It really is when there isn’t a “nest egg” of savings to back up on.  It really is when there aren’t many people hiring.  It really is.

I won’t even pretend to be brave or to have it all together – because while it’s true that I have some good “moments” where I’m all trusting in bigger plans, I have an equal amount of moments where I’m under the realization that those “bigger plans” could indeed include us going through some extra “hardships” for whatever reasons.  I feel like I’m on this horrid broken roller coaster.  Blind-folded.  The ride is bumpy and at any moment I may fly off the track.

For those of you who know me, you know I prefer to remain mostly transparent.  I like to put it all out there (or most of it) for the simple fact that if I keep too busy pretending everything is okay, pretending to live some other life as some other person, then you’ll never know me and I can never change for the better.  If I refuse who I really am and the path that I am on, I will leave no room for God to truly work in my life for a change because I’ll be too busy pretending.  So, I won’t pretend.

I’m scared.  I’m terrified.  I’m hopeful.  All together.  So many emotions lumped into one big mess of me.

DH has sent off resume after resume, called old friends and current ones, followed leads, and worked on small projects…  and still, nothing yet.

We’ve made a list of all of our bills, hoping there was SOMETHING we could cut out.  An extra.  But, we’d already cut all of the extras out, save for $15 a month for extra capabilities for his phone.  No home phone.  No tv.  No magazines or mail order subscriptions.  No memberships.  The only things we could really cut out next would be cell phones and something as trivial as say, electricity!

And, then we got a letter from our mortgage company.  I had called the DAY he was fired, trying to find out if they had any special plans for hardship and the woman basically told me that we were still in good standing and not late on any payments and once we began getting unemployment checks, they’d want proof of those.  Then, she said, they’d expect us to pay basically the whole check towards (up to the amount we owed) on the house payment.  Which was all of ZERO helpful as we’ll still require food and electricity and water and such.

The letter, however, stated that we were DELINQUENT in our account.  I, of course, begin sweating as I’m the list-maker, the girl who freaks out when her bills are late and now they’re sending me letters saying I have a week to contact them before they want to FORECLOSE!?  So, of course I call and the woman informs me that we are TWENTY FOUR days past due on our bill.  Except we paid 2 days ago online AND he’s only been fired for TEN days and ten days ago we weren’t even behind on a payment so how are we NOW?  She didn’t know the answers to any of that and seemed satisfied with the confirmation number of the payment we gave her.  She suggested we file for hardship, which would take another 30 days.

She also wanted to know why the hell I wasn’t working and finding a job.  “Um, because she’s VERY pregnant and almost due and watches our kid,” my husband offered.  “So, when is she going back to work?”  The woman questioned.  “SHE’s LIKE GOING TO HAVE THIS BABY IN A FEW WEEKS, LADY.  NO.  WORK.”

Which brings up a whole other slew of emotions and fears – like having to move at the drop of a hat to a place I don’t know and having to give birth in a strange city without my support network.  And, what if he can’t get home in time?  I could be alone.  I finally found a doula, and I made a pretty little birth plan with beautiful graphic detail and you’re telling me it’s all possibly going to hell (excuse me)?!

I’m so sick and tired of hearing how it’s going to be all right.  I want to stubbornly look those people in the eye and tell them that I’m ALLOWED to freak the heck out.  I’m pregnant.  I’m scared.  I feel helpless because all I can do is stand over my husband and ask him what he’s doing 80 times a day (which is so not helpful).  I REALIZE that I’m not going to die and that even if I lose my house and credit and all of the things we worked for and have to relocate…at least I still have my family.  And, I’m thankful, I am.  But I’m scared, nonetheless.  I REALIZE that there is an ultimate plan, but I can’t get rid of the thought that just because God wanted us somewhere else, it doesn’t mean we’re necessarily “moving up” (in our opinion) at this time.  Maybe God WANTS to scare the shit out of us?  Maybe He wants to test our faith (consider it tested)?  Maybe His plan is not that we find a better job, maybe it’s that we WON’T.

I want real advice, real helpfulness.  I want to know people are there for us.  I’m tired of the pats on the shoulder about how it’s all going to be okay – because are you willing to GUARANTEE that?  Are you going to do something to make it all okay? – and then the instant lead in conversations about how THEIR money is oh-so tight and how their lofty jobs just don’t support their ludicrous spending habits.  Seriously, I don’t want to hear about it.  Not right now.  You should probably take THAT conversation to someone else.

Okay.  Freak out over.  For now.

(PS – We don’t have health insurance through his previous employer, THANK GOD.  Otherwise, I think I would have offered his ex-boss more than murderous glances.  So, as long as we can meet the payments on that, we can keep it.)

(PSS – I really have no intention of murdering anyone.  Not today, anyhow.)

PSSS – Sorry I’m a mess. )

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