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Uncertainty Sucks.

My husband recently found out that
he’s losing his job as his entire New York office gets shut
down. We’ve spent the past two weeks coming to terms with
this white elephant of uncertainty in our lives, trying to figure
out how we’re going to get ready for a new baby in the midst
of such upheaval.

It’s obviously been a lot for us to process, since it’s
taken me two weeks to get to a point where I can write about it.
Brian’s looking for work wherever he can find it, and the
very real possibility exists that it ain’t in New York. So as
if financial uncertainty and losing our corporate health care
weren’t enough, now we’re faced with the idea of
selling, buying, packing and unpacking a house with a newborn. The
sheer volume of details overwhelms me.

And that, of course, is setting aside the emotional impact of all
this. I’ve lived in New York for 12 years now and love it
fiercely, warts and all. At the same time, we know it’s
nearly impossible to raise a child easily in New York without a
pretty hefty amount of cash, so we’ve always had this
nebulous idea of moving out of the city at some point. Just not
fresh from the delivery room.

I know I’m not the first person to
go through this sort of thing, and that the situation could be much
worse. Brian’s company is very kindly covering our health
insurance through the baby’s birth, so we won’t be
paying for COBRA right away. He’s getting a modest severance
package, and he’s got marketable skills, so we know
we’ll survive. We’ve got family and friends who love us
very much and have already stepped forward with offers of help
– everything from an offer to watch both our kids for free
while I go back to work, to a home to live in if needed.

But at 26 weeks pregnant, I’m rounding the corner into my
third trimester and my nesting instinct is kicking in fiercely. At
this time in Maddie’s pregnancy we were happily picking out
cribs, ordering comfy nursing rockers, daydreaming our way through
Pottery Barn Kids catalogs. And this time around all of
that’s on hold: if we’re staying here we’ll be
making some drastic revisions to our bedroom as we squeeze Peanut
into our space. But if we’re moving, there’s no sense
in starting all of that. Then there’s the smaller things:
what’s the point of buying a double stroller right now, if
we’ll simply have to pay a moving company to haul it across
country before it’s out of the box? That hormonal, protective
mama in me is screaming “No fair!” as this part of my
pregnancy is taken from me.

And what about those crucial first weeks? I’m already
petrified of them as they are – will Maddie feel abandoned?
Is there another c-section in my future? How will I handle my sleep
deprivation without taking it out on my child? (Taking it out on my
husband is, of course, a given.) What if I have trouble nursing?
Now I have to think about strangers traipsing through the house
during a showing, or finding half an hour to box up dishes, or
watching my husband start a new job here in the city with demanding
hours that, as the new guy, he can’t do much about. Not many
companies like to hire new employees and then promptly give them a
month off for paternity leave.

I know, life could be worse. And I know I’m lucky that
I’ve got my faith to support me – clinging to something
bigger than myself is the only way to get through this, and I
don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t believe that
God’s hand is all over this.

But it still sucks.


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