safety nets

This evening I filled out the paperwork necessary to get food assistance through my church. It's something I have somewhat conflicted feelings about.

It's not the first time we've had to do this- my husband was unemployed for quite some time last year, and we got to a point where we literally had no money. It was the most profoundly broke I've ever been in my life. We got church assistance for 6 weeks, and by the end of that time Ben had found work and we were able to keep ourselves afloat. More or less. I disliked it, but understood that it was rather necessary. I had to feed my child, and had no way to pay for it myself.

Our current situation is less dire, but just as frustrating. A series of minor financial problems have snowballed, which along with expecting a new baby literally any day now (and needing to buy things for her, like somewhere to sleep) have squeezed our resources quite tightly. So we went to our church leaders in search of help.

I have a hard time asking for help. I always have. To be brutally honest, it's a problem with pride. I can do it myself, why should I need help from other people... that kind of thing. It's easier for me to get over now, since I have children to worry about- there's no room for pride when you don't know how you're going to feed your kid, or at least feed your kid something besides Top Ramen, and we all know how important nutrition is.

At the beginning of my sophomore year of college, I literally could not find a job no matter what I did for the first 2 months of school. I ended up going to my grandparents in desperation to be able to pay my rent. I found work literally a couple days after that, and I chalked it up to a life lesson- it's ok to need help. Apparently this is a lesson I have not learned sufficiently. My husband will happily tell you all about how I push myself to the emotional and physical breaking point rather than soliciting assistance from family members, and end up sobbing all over the place because I can't handle it anymore. I do this at least once a month, especially during the course of this pregnancy. Lately I've been better about handling it, mostly because I've been getting regular naps and my son has been taking LOOOOONG naps every day. (Glory hallelujah...)

I'm thankful that my church's welfare programs are there, and easily accessible, as I'm thankful for every program we've had to avail ourselves of, even if I feel unbelievably guilty about it at the same time. I keep telling myself two things- there are people in this world who literally live in squalor, so I'm practically in the lap of luxury if compared to those poor souls; also, Ben will have his paralegal degree next summer, at which point he will be able to get a job that pays roughly twice what he makes now, student loan repayment notwithstanding. All these difficulties are temporary in nature. And three years from now, when I finally have my teaching degree and Ben (hopefully) starts the horror that is law school, things will be better. And they'll be even BETTER four years after that. So yeah, living in my brother-in-law's basement sucks. At least I have somewhere to live.