**Update** Comments have been fixed! Sorry- don’t know what happened!
I peel my eyes open each morning and feel the frustration stream in. The sense of being totally overwhelmed.
“Lord, will you really bring us this far only to have everything come undone? Might you actually leave us homeless? Could I really have no place of my own to bring forth this baby girl mid-summer?”
The questions choke me and leave me in tears in more moments than I care to admit.
Yes, folks- our house sold, something we had prayed for for months came to fruition. We stepped out on faith and signed closing papers with no contingency because we were so sure that God was moving us on, had a plan for us that did not involve these walls any longer. We are technically living in someone else’s home right now. We have to be out in less than three weeks, they would prefer much sooner. But where are we going?
I never dreamed we would come six months into this whole deal (or should I say ordeal) and still not have answers as to whether everything is going to work out or not. Yet, as I type this we are waiting to find out if the sellers are going to agree to install a system to remove nitrates from the water and correct some issues with a wonky septic system- things we just found out about. We are still waiting on the appraisal of the property. We are still waiting to see if underwriting is going to give us the final go-ahead on our loan (as they promised five months ago) or if they are going to continue to require additional documentation… and continue to leave us in the dark about whether any of this is even possible… and we are supposed to close next week.
There are so many variables… Still. Will underwriting reject our application, making us homeless? Will my husband be able to find third-party lending if that does happen, to insure we still have a home? Will we get the approval on the loan only to find out that our sellers won’t make the required fixes on the property, thus, again, leaving us homeless? Will we have to plead with my husband’s parents to allow us to live at their lake cabin until we can either find another property or get to a point where we can get approved for a loan, so as to avoid having to live in our fifth wheel trailer for an unknown period of time?
And then, of course, there is the issue that really weighs on me- the one that truly changes everything- where am I going to give birth to this baby girl? We already just found out that we can’t afford to have the birth attendants there that we originally planned on, which has been very disappointing, but now if I end up not even having a home to have our homebirth in… well that is entirely too much for me to comprehend. Alternative ideas have been tossed around-
our fifth wheel, my grandmother’s (which I guess we haven’t mentioned to her yet… and she reads my blog…. Haha! Surprise Grandma!), my in-law’s… the luxury hotel downtown… but none of them are home. None of them give me the ability to nest and feel prepared and feel comfortable in my own space to do what my body needs to do.
And then after she is out, where do I bring her home to, if I don’t already have a home to even have her in? Could I really be recovering and then subsquently living in a fifth wheel trailer with all five of us? No place for a swing or a changing table or even much storage to speak of to store all of our clothes, let alone all the reest of the paraphernalia associated with a newborn. Could I be cloth diapering without a washing machine… or my diaper sprayer?! I shutter.
I’m scared I’m terrified of what the next few months are going to hold. I surround myself daily by ever-growing walls of packed boxes, attempting to prepare them with a destination in mind, numbing myself to the thought of putting them in storage. I try not to think about things. I try to just keep on packing, focusing on and savoring every kick and squirm from my precious baby girl, sitting for long hours pouring love into crocheting her very first baby blanket, and ignoring the rest of life that is uncontrollably swirling around me. Because the moments that I do think about it I end up completely overcome… incapable of doing much of anything but sob.
I think to blog but decide that in general I sound too depressing and no one wants to read that, unless maybe I condense it all into one occasional, nauseating post (such as this). I keep thinking, “This will be over soon. Then I will blog every. single. day. Then I will take my readers on a new adventure with me, move forward and things will be good.” But right now, my head is stuck in the mire. Right now, I just have to remind myself to take each breath.
Oh Jesus, give me strength. And peace. And dare I ask, even a little joy.
“I have a Maker, He knows my heart.
Before even time began, my life was in His hands.
You know my name. You know my every thought.
You see each tear that falls and you hear me when I call.”