I started crying at the midwife today. Yup, one of those days where I just could not hold it in. I had been sitting in my car before the appointment, trying to muster up the courage to tell God that I know it's all going to be all right no matter what because He is good  (I'm still not there yet.) and I was listening to some mushy Christian song on the radio--that always does it for me.
Then I went in, with my heart beating in my throat, peed in the cup, sat down and cried about how "overwhelmed" I felt by it all. I had never even met this midwife before. She was also not the sweet, hug-it-out-honey type. I think she was sort of overwhelmed herself by my unorthodox display of emotion. She just stared at me and asked me if I had someone to talk to you.
I'm talking to you?!
I wanted to say.
I know what she meant. I tried to backtrack and mumbled something about mentors that my husband and I have and how I'm really okay, in just a super-pregant-with-a-toddler-kind-of-way.

It was only a 3-second cry. Not a 3-minute cry, if that was any consolation. It started with "I don't know what I am doing, I feel so young and so old at the same time," and ended with "I don't know if I will ever have a career and life just seems so uncertain right now. My husband is looking for a job, we have to move out of our in-laws, and everything is basically crashing down on my baby-filled belly while I chase after a toddler."

It was a pity-cry.
Chris would say I have a lot of these. I am particularly vulnerable to them in my pregnant, uber-tired, uber-ridiculous state-of-mind.
I am embarrassed to say that I have been like this ever since I last posted. Eight days of this. Yes.

Chris and I didn't even talk at all last night. Isn't that awful? Maybe this is TMI about our marriage.
He came home at 5:30. I hadn't even had a particularly terrible day, but I was sad that he couldn't come home earlier. (He leaves at 5:30 and gets home at 5:30 often). I am sick of 12-hour days and I often beg him to come home. I made one comment when he got home, something about "why are you home so late today?"
Firestorm. He got upset. I got upset that he was upset because I was upset. After all, I have the toddler for 12 hours a day.
The whole night disappeared before my eyes. Granted, he tried to reconcile with me THREE times between the hours of 6 pm-9 pm. I have no idea what happened to me. I just turned into the "I don't want to be friends anymore. I don't want to talk.I don't want to work on it" So we didn't. He has to go to bed at 9 to get up at 5:30 again. So those precious three hours were completely wasted. I felt so alone. It was my fault.

The other night I was talking to my mentor-mom. I told her about my history of crying, emotion-filled, and childish tirades She said to me that I might need to grow up a little and put on my big girl pants. After all, I now have to set an example for Zoe. I have to support Chris.
 I completely agree.  I thought. But how?

My whole meltdown was spawned by another "situation" this week.  Chris didn't get the job we had been hoping to hear back from for 4 weeks. I mean, I checked his e-mail every hour for four weeks. It was that bad. There was a sinking realization as time went on that we didn't have the job, but I thought that maybe, just maybe it would come through for us.

This marks 4 months of job searching. Chris and I have spent the last 2 weeks of this last month mostly fighting--while I cry and apply to job after job online, and read article after article about how bad the economy is. Do I think this is healthy for me or my marriage? Absolutely not.
Do I feel embarrassed about my attitude and situation? Completely, but it hasn't changed the reality of how vulnerable I feel with #2 on the way and no job in sight.

When I found out about the job, this is what I did: Packed my bags to go to North Carolina and stay there in my parent's house until they return from their trip to Thailand.
Yup. Totally irrational.
Chris came up-stairs to check on me and Zoe and found me shoving her toothbrush and bear in the corner of a giant suitcase.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Leaving to go to North Carolina." I told him. (Its' a 12-hour trip driving)
He laughed.
"I'm not leaving you," I said. "I'm just leaving my life right now. I'm leaving the Chicago snow storm and this house, and my fear and sadness."
"Okay." He said. "What day are you going to leave?"
"Today or tomorrow."
"Why don't you wait a few days?"
"Because I am afraid I will lose motivation the next day." (Which I did)

Fortunately, Chris rationally talked me out of my idea. I don't know if it sounds like a good idea to truck across the country by yourself in a snow storm with a toddler, but really, it made me feel so much better to think I was going to do this crazy thing for 3 hours. For some reason, it made me feel like I was a kid again. That I had options. That I could run away from everything if I wanted to.
This is probably why my mentor said I have to put on my big girl pants now. I want to say that I am trying, but I am not sure that I even have the energy for that. Basically I just keep asking God to bring down a circle of light and goodness and joy and change this situation because I cannot see out of it today.
The verse I am focusing on is "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7.
I am not sure where my "sound mind" has gone, but I sincerely hope God can find it and bring it back here.