We had a great time in Tucson, it actually reminded me a lot of Modesto. Both are pretty decent sized towns plunked down in the middle of nowhere, so you get the benefits of suburban living with all the conveniences of plenty of stores, along with the benefits of rural living. I found a bunch of great crafty stores, an amazing selection of fantastic restaurants, and a wonderful art community. Plus the real estate market is **so** much better than San Diego.
I’ve written about four dozen posts updating Bear’s job situation, only to have them change just before I published. Everything is still up in the air, but we’re starting to slowly close in on a resolution. At least enough so that we know that there are about two things that could happen instead of just being subject to any manner of whims.
Here’s the short version. Months ago, before the fires, it looked like a company was going to buy Bear’s building and put their own boss-man in place, sending us out on our ear. That company ended up not working out and the sale didn’t go through. We turned down all the other offers we had in this area and were incredibly grateful things could stay as they were. Turns out we weren’t out of the woods. Now some other corporate developments have occurred that I can’t disclose that put us back in the same spot. We’ve kind of burned our bridges in the area by turning down offers last time, so now we’re basically waiting to find out if we get to stay here or if we have to be transfered to Tuscon.
Tuscon was great, and if we end up there I’m sure we’ll find a way to be happy. But the thought of moving. AGAIN. When I haven’t even made friends here yet, when I haven’t even been able to fully unpack because of home renovations, when I haven’t even finished the home renovations…it’s kind of demoralizing. Tuscon would put us in a really great place financially, but with no family or friends around us when I have my first baby. Plus we’d have to move when I was eight months pregnant and try to find a new doctor. I’m trying very hard to understand that I have absolutely no control over this, and if God wants us in Tuscon then Tuscon it is. But I really wanted to put down roots here. Maybe we still can, it’s not definite, but I’m feeling gloomy.
We got back from Tuscon Saturday night, and Sunday night we found out our prophet Gordon B. Hinckley died. He was a very old man and we’ve all been expecting it for years. I am so attached to President Hinckley that I imagined sobbing and days of depression, but instead I’m just so very grateful I could grow up under his leadership. I’ve still had a couple weepy moments, but overall I’m just so filled with love and appreciation for him. He has done so much for our church, and so much that was good for me. I can’t really even articulate my thoughts on him, I just want to be like Anne Shirley and “feel a prayer.”
Monday morning Bear had to leave for Reno without me. I was absolutely pissed about it. He had to go to a work regional conference, leaving his 7 months pregnant wife, when if we get to stay with the company it probably won’t even be in this region anyway. He basically just had to go to try to keep the news under wraps, leaving me to fend for myself when I can barely even reach my feet to put on a pair of socks. I ended up being fine, I just got absolutely nothing done all week. Normally I work hard around the house during the day, relying on Bear to take care of me at night when I have to crash. This week I just wandered around the house, ate something, hugged a cat, wandered some more, hugged a cat, ate some more, took a nap with a cat, moved to the couch, ate something else, rinse and repeat. Other than the guilt I felt over my lack of productivity, I was fine.
Then, yesterday morning I woke up at four in the morning with incredible stomach cramps. It didn’t feel like contractions, it felt like hunger pains. I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t get comfortable in any position, and food was not making it any better. If I hadn’t been alone, I would’ve certainly been incredibly uncomfortable, but I could have dealt with it with a little help. On my own I had to deal with the pain and try to trudge upstairs anytime I needed medicine or try to make my lunch while barely being able to breath. By three in the afternoon, I had reached my limit and was starting to get panicky. I finally called the doctor – which I am absolutely loathe to do after all the head-pats and crazy talk I’ve received – and the sweet advice nurse basically told me that Rookie was just going through a growth spurt and causing me loads of muscle and skeletal pain.
People keep asking me how the pregnancy is going, and before this week I’ve had no complaints other than exhaustion and some back pain. No varicose veins, no hemorrhoids, no vomiting, nothing weird. It figures it would all hit me at once and while I was all by myself.