Something’s Gotta Give

A little over 3 years ago, I met my now husband. We were both working at an animal rescue; I was the kennel manager and he was my first trainee. We bonded very quickly over our love of the dogs we were caring for, and we quickly began spending a lot of time together. This was a second job for Ben, his full time job was working overnight at Home Depot. He spent almost every morning with me at the kennel, we ended up showing up to shifts together to help each other, went out to lunch afterwards, and then went he would go home to nap and take care of his dog. We started dating a couple months after meeting, and 5 months in, we got our first apartment together. He ended up leaving Home Depot to work for someone we met through the rescue, and things started to spiral a bit from there. His hours became sparse, and he was essentially on call 24/7. We didn’t even get to spend our first Valentine’s Day together because the woman he was working for needed him the entire day. Eventually, he had enough of being take advantage of and began working at Petco, hoping his old position of dog trainer would become available.

Then COVID hit. I got laid off and Ben was working VERY part time. Around that time my car also got stolen and found totaled. We needed a new car, but I wasn’t working and Ben was hardly working. Strike one. I was able to get a new car and got a new job after a couple weeks. Yay, we felt like we were taking steps forward! Then someone got assaulted in the laundry room we used at the apartment complex, and we decided that we didn’t want to wait for a third strike, it was time to move out. We moved into my parent’s in-law apartment, which was supposed to be temporary, as I was leaving for Army boot camp at the end of July. BUT before I left, Ben proposed! Things really felt like they were falling into place. I had a plan to help provide for our family that we were officially starting.

Strike 2. Boot camp was one of the hardest experiences of my life. I ended up getting COVID while I was there, and the isolation ward took a MAJOR toll on my mental health. I was in a very dangerous place mentally, and I ended up taking steps to get out of the Army. After 4 long months away from home with minimal contact, I flew home to my fiancé, our dogs, and everyone else I love. I was able to get my former job back easily, and after a 2 week quarantine, it felt like we were back to life as we knew it. And it was time for Ben and I to move out again.

We started working with a realtor. Ben was struggling to find a stable job at the time, and he spent a lot of time trying out new careers to find something that fit and would help provide for us. That may or may not have hindered us finding a place, but long story short, it wasn’t going well. Strike 3. No one was willing to take our pets, and if they were, there would be some other reason our application was denied. So frustrating, but we kept trying. Ben ended up getting a job working with me at the vet office, which was exciting for a lot of reasons. The biggest reason was I knew that it was going to be a stable and long term job for him, assuming he enjoyed it. At that point, I had been working there for almost 2 years, and I had been able to advance my position and continue to grow in my career, so I knew he would eventually have that opportunity, as well.

We had our wedding, which was absolutely perfect, and a month later we were FINALLY able to move into our own place. It was so much closer to work, it had more space, and they were willing to take the dogs. Things started to look up again, and for a long time, they continued to look up. At the end of that year, Ben and I decided it was time to grow our family a bit, and we quickly found out that I was pregnant! Flash forward a couple months, and we found out we were expecting a little girl the day we left for our honeymoon. Everything kept going smoothly, and we felt really comfortable with where we were. We had a plan for the future once our daughter arrived; we wanted to stay month to month in our condo (our lease stated that was an option) and once we were ready, it was time to move states and see what we could continue to accomplish together.

As our lease started to come close to an end (about 4 months in advance) we informed our landlord of our decision. He let us know that unfortunately that wouldn’t be possible, as he would need the condo for him and his significant other, as she was pregnant as well and they needed somewhere to live. Strike 4, and probably one of the biggest ones of all; we’re still working through it right now. Ben and I quickly were given a timeline to find somewhere to live, a task that had taken us over a year the last time.

But this time it isn’t about just us. We have our daughter, who we’re expecting in just a month and a half. My parents no longer have an in-law apartment for us to move into if we need.

Ben and I have always had a village behind us. Through every low we’ve had, we’ve always had a huge group of people helping in any way possible. And this time is no different. And I can’t think of anyone else I would rather go through these situations with. Ben has always been the calm to my storm, and he’s always been able to remind me that freaking out over things isn’t going to fix it. He has always helped with solutions. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified at the thought of not having a roof to put over our daughter’s head. That thought has been keeping me up at night, sending emails at 2am to any property I can find that MIGHT work for us. I will move oceans if that’s what it takes to make sure we have a home to raise our baby in, but I just wish the universe wouldn’t make it reach that point.

This isn’t meant to be a pity article, either. Honestly. I just need to be dramatic, and I need to vent. I know things will work out, because they always have. Even in the most stressful situations, Ben and I have been able to come out of the tunnel. But sometimes I just need time to freak out and stress. It’ll settle down, but right now, I just need something to give, even if just a little.