So yeah, basically I have been slacking. I was going to continue with the trend today, when I read Natasha's post about having freakout moments just because of life. And I thought to myself:
Yeah. That's pretty much where I'm at right now.
Luckily, my current moment is on its way out (they tend to do that after a couple of days,) and I wonder, "Why was I so worried?"
That translates into a lot more time at home for me, which wasn't supposed to be a problem, as I was originally planning on having a little 2 1/2-month-old scooting around about this time. That (obviously) is no longer the case. Thanks to my second and third miscarriages, the roller coaster hasn't quite come to a complete stop. Emotionally, yes, but I'm doing great there. I've found that after the first one, it's not so much emotionally devastating as it is just disappointing and frustrating. The roller coaster analogy refers more to the "planning for the future" part of my life. I have to keep switching gears from "Prepare to be a mom" mode to "Maybe I should help provide for our family" mode.
Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have given up my pursuit of a nursing major. At this point, I probably could have been out of the program by the time we have a successful pregnancy. And then I wouldn't have to brace myself every time I tell someone what I graduated in. Don't get me wrong--I loved majoring in Home and Family Living. I felt uplifted and fulfilled as I took and completed all (okay, so maybe MOST) of my classes. However, a lot of people have preconceived notions about HFL or MFHD majors. And I hate even the possibility of being stuck mindlessly into someone's stereotype. I hate feeling like I have to somehow validate my major by explaining the life events and changes that landed me in HFL, in addition to explaining how awesome my plans are with medical transcription, and how well my photography business is working out for me.
Maybe this is simply a personal insecurity. Maybe I feel this way because I used to hold a stereotype for people who graduated with a degree in Home and Family Living, and now--having completed the courses--realize how completely wrong and idiotic I was.
The other part of the roller coaster involved health insurance. As of the middle of August, I was pregnant (again.) And since I was currently with DMBA (BYU health plan,) and already pregnant, I couldn't get any kind of private insurance. So I assumed I would have to use the "extended coverage" option--it would cost about the same amount as being a dependant on Kirby's plan, but would give us the flexibility of being able to stop mid-semester when I had my baby in March. But get this--$560/month. So basically, all the money we were supposed to be saving from free rent would be going to my health insurance. Blah.
But wait! A financial ray of hope! If you take at least 2.0 credit hours as a postbaccalaureate student at BYU, you get the student pricing on insurance. $350/semester as opposed to $560/month. So I applied, was accepted, and planned to take a 3.0 credit class with Kirby--one that I had already taken, and thoroughly enjoyed. It was supposed to be nice and easy.
But then, I miscarried again. That in and of itself was a crazy situation. Maybe I will blog about it later. But that meant that I could now get private insurance. I wound up talking to this girl who was studying in the same part of the JFSB as me about her insurance, and she hooked me up with her agent. Everything looked great. For just over $100/month I could get awesome coverage, and it was, of course, month to month. Perfect.
Too good to be true? Yup. Back and forth, back and forth. I feel like I'm on a perpetual see-saw. It turns out that my three miscarriages basically mean that no one will insure me until I have a successful pregnancy. (Basically until I can prove that I am somehow not broken.)
Frustrating, isn't it? How being honest can come back and bite you in the butt?
So, back to square one. Sort of. I was already enrolled for my class, so it was back to square two. :) Since I am already covered by DMBA, they can't kick me out.
I emailed that agent back, though, to ask another question. What if the doctors know what the problem is, which means they will have it taken care of next time? He said he would check on it, along with a little extra blurb about some agency that would insure me for an 25% increase to the price.
And that's where I am now. You know what I know. And I am sick of it. I will probably end up taking this class, and crossing my fingers that maybe--just MAYBE--we will actually have a baby before my cheaper insurance options run out. I am trying my best to keep my hands, arms, feet and legs inside the cart at all times. I am clutching my restraining bar, and am hanging on for dear life. But honestly? Couldn't we try a new ride?