With much encouragement from Michael's company to put down roots in Charlotte, we bought our first house in the fall of 2015. We were overjoyed to have our own little corner of the world. We threw ourselves into making the house a home. It had previously served as a rental property and needed a little love. I looked to Pinterest for inspiration. We stayed up late, drinking cider, painting the house, and dreaming about the future.
Just a year after buying the house, Michael's company announced that they would be moving. They weren't sure where or when and didn't have much of a plan. It was a mess and things deteriorated rapidly. After months of uncertainty, Michael was laid off. I was 2 months pregnant. Michael spent countless hours furiously job searching. He applied to job after job all over the country, often hearing nothing back. It felt like we were painstakingly folding resumes into paper airplanes and throwing them into an abyss. He came home everyday, dejected and discouraged. I tried to buoy his spirits, but my own were sinking. It was the hardest thing to watch him struggle and not be able to help. There were a few interviews. Hopes raised and then dashed. Life continued as it tends to do, and we celebrated milestones: my sister's wedding, holidays with family, visits from friends, but every joy was under a shadow.
I increased my hours at the donut shop to help pay the bills. My alarm went off early every morning, and I dragged my aching body out of my warm bed. My coworkers were wonderful; we had a lot of fun, laughing and being creative in the kitchen. They boosted my morale, and I'm forever grateful for them. It was a welcome distraction, but the long hours on my feet left me exhausted. I struggled to maintain my normal pace, but the undeniable truth is that I was slowing down. The months slogged by as my belly grew. I was thankful for a healthy pregnancy, but it was hard to enjoy it when the future was one big question mark. I longed to nest and plan a nursery, but I didn't know whether we would end up staying. Between the hormones and the stress, Michael and I fought more than usual. We were both weary down to the soul with no end in sight. We were in the middle of a relentless, unforgiving storm.
Adam was born on a chilly Tuesday morning in February, a full 5 weeks early. He was healthy for being so premature, but I was absorbed by a new set of worries: temperature regulation, nursing, birth weight, jaundice. That time is a blur. Adam made progress and after only a week spent in the hospital, we were discharged. I felt like a bear waking from hibernation. Spring had sprung. To my eyes, used to the soft glow of florescent light, the sun was blinding. Flowers had popped up everywhere, trees were budding, and birds were singing. The world was renewing, but still we were stuck in the same desolate season of life. Despite the stress of unemployment, I was happy to have Michael's help as we survived those newborn days together and adjusted to our new normal as a family of 5. One night Michael and I were sitting at the dining room table, watching the kids play, blissfully unaware of the crushing pressure we were facing. We had both run out of hope. We agreed that the job search was getting nowhere and we needed to come up with an alternative plan for our family. Life could not continue this way and we simply could not take one more step. We went to bed broken and defeated.
The very next morning, Michael got an email from a company with whom he had interviewed months before. We hadn't heard from them in so long, that we had written them off. They made an offer. It had taken 8 months, but the rain was finally lifting and the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon.
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