I know I haven’t given much of an update about my working full-time now, just bittles here and there. But easily put, I really like my job. I like being back at work, talking to adults, using my brain for more than finding ways to entertain my preschooler, being forced to socialize again because even though I knew I had become a hermit it turns out that it was worse than I’d realized. I’m being a productive member of society. I’m not in any way saying that raising my son is not being productive, but I realize now that being ONLY at home with him and almost no social / support network (sorry but virtual socializing just doesn’t seem to count enough to prevent hermitizing but you guys did keep me from being completely insane) was really not good for me.

I’ve felt amazing since going back to work. Being physically active (I’m eating like a pig and losing weight from how much motoring around I’m doing) is great. I’m not feeling as tired any more. But the best part is that I’ve been pulled out of the heavy depression that I didn’t realize that I’d been in, building up over the last few years. Did you know you could suffer double depression? Last winter was horrible for me, but I didn’t realize the depression I suffered was only on top of a depression that had slowly built up over time.

Ok, I’m rambling, and on to the downer part of the post. You may remember that the only reason I was able to accept the position was that by some miracle in my small town, I was able to find a day home that was agency run AND did weekends. Finding child care here is nearly impossible for those that don’t work monday – friday 9-5. So, Dec 23rd at about 11pm as I’ve got everything ready for Christmas eve, I decided to go through Monsters back pack and read the journal S keeps for him about all day home stuff.

Inside is a letter of termination of care.

I re-read it about 10 times thinking that I was misunderstanding something. But I wasn’t. She’s got just as much problems with fertility/ pregnancy as all of us here and she’s having a really hard time in her pregnancy now (which she only opened up about a few weeks back). I was DEVASTATED. I cried all night and all Christmas eve. May sound like an over reaction, but it means so much more than just having to find a new day home.

Losing child care that I really like. The knowledge that I may very well not be able to find a replacement willing to do weekends. Not an exaggeration since I’ve spent three years here trying to find reliable childcare. The knowledge that if I can’t, I’ll have to quit my job. The only reason Hubby was able to take his promotion to assistant manager (which was a slight pay cut) was because I was now working so if I quit he’ll have to quit and go back into the field. That if I’m not working I’ll be drawn right back into that horrible place that I didn’t know I was in, stuck at home all the time not seeing anyone and looking at the constant reminder that I may be an at home mom but I can’t seem to bring any more children into this world to raise, rubbing my secondary infertility in my face. I’m terrified of going back there.

We’re just leaving out the obvious part about wanting her pregnancy to go well.

Can’t say that it helps that this is the fourth time I’ve lost child care and the fourth time it’s been to pregnancy. Just in case I needed that little extra face rub.

So I’m staring at the potential of everything we’ve worked for and achieved over the last few month flushing down the drain because it all depends on one thing that we have so little control of.

I’m more numb to it now. I’ve got less that two weeks to find a solution or lose my job.

So please, I’m asking you to all send your prayers, good thoughts, or anything more helpful than cheese string my way. Cross everything you’ve got that I can find someone willing/ able/ and responsible enough to take care of my son.

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