A few weeks ago, I wrote briefly about how Tony accepted an adjunct teaching position at a small college near Fort Wayne, Indiana. At the time, the position was only offering two courses. They’ve since offered him another class, which means a tiny bit more money, but the pay is still unbearably low with no benefits or job security. It’s the best offer he’s had, so we accepted. Money will be tight, but this job is hopefully a stepping stone toward better opportunities.

The decision has led to a prolonged bout of denial and anxiety about a number of things, no doubt exacerbated by the 14-week-old fetus that I’m incubating (don’t ask how long it took my pregnant brain to figure out how to spell exacerbated, despite the fact that I think I correctly spelled it once in a 3rd-grade spelling bee). I don’t want to move yet again, especially while pregnant. I don’t want to find a new doctor, or face another year of financial and residential instability.

Most of all, though, I really don’t want to accept the fact that this decision puts us back to square one financially. It’s going to be a while before we have enough wiggle room in our budget to start saving again, unfortunately. It’s back to a bare bones budget and a sadly dwindling bank account.

We’re also back in debt. We currently owe the hospital about $2,000 for my insurance deductible. It’s money that we have, that we technically could pay right now, but letting go of that kind of cash with no income is a little too scary for me. So we’ve worked out an interest-free payment plan to pay it back over the next several months to decrease the sting a little.

I’m thankful for my health insurance, even if it is expensive, and glad that it only requires us to pay $2,000 out of pocket for my entire pregnancy. I was feeling bitter about the cost of my monthly insurance premiums until I started receiving my first bills for prenatal care. Between ultrasounds and lab work, I capped my deductible in my first appointment. So yeah. I don’t mind writing those insurance checks every month.

We have a lot of decisions to make in the next month, and a long list of to-dos during a time when I can barely force myself to get out of bed and take a shower, let alone find a new doctor, find an apartment we can afford, and get myself together enough to start substitute teaching in the fall.

But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that despite all the stress, I’m looking forward to moving into the home where we’ll welcome this baby in December — the place that will first house our family. The icing on the cake? We’ll get to enjoy a real fall this year; we’ll hopefully see a real live snowstorm or two this winter; and we’ll be just a short drive away from the families that were over 800 miles away just a few months ago.

Considering our budget, our next home will likely to be cramped. We might not even be able to afford a place with an extra room for a nursery. But it will be our home, the place where I’ll set up my baby’s furniture, fold his or her tiny little clothes, and prepare for a new chapter in our lives.

That doesn’t mean getting there isn’t going to be a pain in the ass.

Photo by martie