When I got pregnant I knew life would be different, but I
wasn’t prepared for the sadness I would feel in losing my social circle of
co-workers when I chose to work part-time from home versus full time in an
office. The difficulty was compounded by
the fact that Steve’s car had lost the will to live and our mechanic had recommended a do-not-resuscitate order. Noah, was just 6 weeks
old, and since I had had an emergency c-section, I wasn’t scheduled to start back for two more weeks. Then came the call that my job was no longer secure…that is if
I didn’t plan to haul my entire family on down to Sarasota, FL. In the end I was able to work out a deal that
allowed me to return to my post, but I would get to work from home and for only
20 hours a week. The only catch was that
this situation was temporary. I had
bought myself and the company, three months to find my replacement.
Our situation was aggravated further by the fact that 18 months before, my husband of good intentions, had tried to strengthen our portfolio by purchasing a rental property. Unfortunately, we bought high, and soon after the bubble burst, and we were left with a second home that drained us and our bank account . I rationalized that since I was only going to be working 20 hours a week from home, I wouldn’t need a car because I'd be tied up with nursing and trying to fit in four hours of work each day. Steve used my car to commute back and forth to work, and to school, and to the second job he’d taken to help us make ends meet.
Our situation was aggravated further by the fact that 18 months before, my husband of good intentions, had tried to strengthen our portfolio by purchasing a rental property. Unfortunately, we bought high, and soon after the bubble burst, and we were left with a second home that drained us and our bank account . I rationalized that since I was only going to be working 20 hours a week from home, I wouldn’t need a car because I'd be tied up with nursing and trying to fit in four hours of work each day. Steve used my car to commute back and forth to work, and to school, and to the second job he’d taken to help us make ends meet.
I was then left to cope with
walking a line of having one foot in the working world and one in the SAHM
world. I didn’t have a solid footing in
either place. What I really needed was
to create a new circle of friends and support which was no easy task without
wheels. I logged a lot of miles with my
stroller and visited every park within safe walking distance from my home. Every day I’d ask God…ok, I guess I should be
honest here, I didn’t really ask – I pretty much demanded and swore and had a
Super Size tantrum for him to give me one girlfriend who would listen and commiserate
with me. I was lonely dammit.
Enter…God’s perfect time line:
October 2004 – Steve and I joined a church (I had spent more
than 15 years trying to convince myself I didn’t need one – I was
spiritual. That was enough, right?) Though I was born and raised Catholic, we
settled on attending services in a contemporary, Methodist one.
December 2004 - Noah began having seizures. A blessing in disguise, because it fast-tracked us to seeing a specialist.
December 2004 - Noah began having seizures. A blessing in disguise, because it fast-tracked us to seeing a specialist.
January – March 2005
- We bought a second car!
- I am given the opportunity to work again with my former boss and forever friend, Ellen Rohr.
- A space opens up in a Mom’s Day Out program allowing me to work without a toddler under foot, one day a week.
May 2005 – Noah begins receiving therapy through First Steps
and I begin my education in Sensory Integration Dysfunction and managing a very
intense “sensory diet” with our son.
June 2005 – While taking a class at church, I meet a new
mom. Her name is Barb, but I’m so
sleep-deprived and overwhelmed by Noah’s health issues, I don’t recall much
passed her name.
August 2005 – I learn through the church bulletin that Barb’s
family had experienced a death in the family.
Though I don’t know her well, I feel compelled to send a sympathy card. A day or so after I sent the card, she called
to thank me! Who does that? By this time, I wasn’t sure I wanted a friend
as Noah’s behaviors and tantrums were growing as fast as he was and I was busy
with work and working the “sensory diet plan” which involved:
·
Brushing and joint compressions - 10 times a day
·
Listening therapy - twice a day, 20 minutes increments
·
Swinging therapy – twice a day, 15 minute increments
·
Systematic desensitization program – twice a day, between meals
I wasn’t embarrassed by my son or his diagnosis, I told
myself. That’s because somewhere deep
down (I don’t even think I consciously thought it) there was a part of me that
felt if I just worked the plan, followed the therapist’s instructions, I’d get
his issues licked and our lives back on track.
What I thought would be a short, five-minute call, turned
into a two hour therapy session. I couldn’t
believe my luck when Barb told me she was an occupational therapist. What were the odds? Our daily phone calls turned into frequent play
dates and a sweet babysitting swap set-up.
It was amazing how easily the words passed between us and she cared for
my kid like he was her own. It was as if
God had hand-picked her to drop in on my life when I needed her support the
most…oh, yea. Duh.
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