After spending the better part of this week in a dark blue funk, capped off by a totally inappropriate crying session at work this morning, Momma realized it was time. Time to square her shoulders, lift up her head, take a deep breath and...just keep breathing.
No, this isn't a Pollyanna moment. I'm not going to burst into a Broadway-esque rendition of "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow." No revelations about clouds and silver linings and unexpected blessings. But, there is this: We have survived the worst imaginable loss ever this year. Nothing can compare, Peanut, to the loss of you. Yet, here we are. So, by that logic, we will survive this too.
Peanut, Dadda's company announced on Monday they are closing their doors at the end of the year. No severance packages. No health benefits. Nothing. Two weeks before your little brother is due. And, while "it's just a job" it was, for us, a sense of security. Momma was planning to take an extended maternity leave this time around, knowing we had the security of two paychecks. We were evaluating whose health insurance to use for The Bean. Everything felt like it was going to start falling back into place in 2012. We had started to feel...hopeful.
Now, we're facing the reality of one paycheck. No extended maternity leave. No options around insurance, as Momma's company dramatically changes health plans to save corporate expenses. No true sense of financial security as we support this family.
But, we'll be OK. It will work out. Now Dadda might get to stay home with your little brother as Momma goes back to work. And, if there is one thing I know for sure, it is that Dadda will be the BEST stay-at-home parent in the world. We've also learned a lot about who we trust, how we trust and when we trust. A lesson I'm glad we learned now, rather than 5 years down the road.
Peanut, as I sat in my office crying this morning, I heard your little voice saying "Uhhh-PH Momma!" I vividly saw the image of your delightful, pleading face and outstretched arms asking for me to lift you onto the couch. That image, in that moment, told me it was time. Time to put my chin uhhhhhh-puh! Put the steel back in my spine. Face the day. And, breathe.
Peanut, I hope you know every tear, while salty with sorrow is also full of my love for you. To the moon and back.