The excitement never ends!
Tim diligently applied for job after job in the greater San Diego area but got almost no responses and no official interviews in two-and-a-half months. A previous employer, however, offered him a position in the Los Angeles area. He worked for them while I was in medical school and during my first year of residency, and they were always very good to him. They have since moved from South Pasadena to Compton--yes, THE Compton mentioned in all the gangster movies and songs. Long Beach is right next door, and we knew of some very good like-minded friends living in Long Beach. The more we looked into it, the more friends we found living in the area.
With no offers or pending interviews in San Diego, we felt it would be unwise to turn down this offer even though it's not at all in the geographical area we were hoping for. With the exception of the deep friendships that developed, neither of us enjoyed living in Los Angeles before, so we were not excited about returning. Yet again, it seems the Lord had different plans for us than we had hoped.
The house hunt started out exciting. On our first drive up (nearly 3 hours each way while pregnant and getting swollen), we absolutely fell in love with the last place we looked at for the day. We have never lived in a home that I loved because we have always chosen the place that is cheapest in order to be frugal with finances. This place was not only inexpensive, which would allow us to pay off my medical school loans more quickly, but it was also adorable and walking distance to the beach, a pool, a playground and a very popular street with lots of fun restaurants. Yay! We submitted our application with the expectation that we would likely be granted the home.
Nope. Once again, the plans were not to be. An acquaintance of the owners requested the home, so we lost it.
This surprisingly threw me into a deep despair. After all the struggles we have had, I suppose I wanted God to give us just one thing in a smooth way. At first I felt silly for being so upset about not getting the home. It's such a materialistic thing, after all. But then I realized that it represented so much more.
I have really been wanting stability after all the craziness in our lives, especially with a baby so close to arriving. This home represented that, and losing it meant a continuation of unknowns. I further realized that this loss made me recognize and grieve the many things that we have lost since making the decision to go to Nepal:
Having Jack grow up with family.
A "regular" stable job.
The "life" of a physician.
Attending weddings of close friends and family.
Being present for friends going through very difficult times.
Consistent community.
Being comfortable.
Getting comfortable and gaining confidence as a physician instead of changing environments so often at the beginning of my career.
Being able to apply for jobs or rent a home or obtain a car loan or sign up for utilities without being penalized for being out of the country for a couple years.
Being able to potty train Jack due to moving him around every few months.
Having a single doctor and hospital throughout my pregnancy versus three.
Having "normal" health insurance.
Why was God constantly changing the plan? And not just changing it but seemingly thrashing each one against the wall without regard to the survival of my soul. I wondered if we were just so far outside of His will that He had to do this to keep us on track or if this is just part of the life of committing to following Him anywhere and through anything. I felt like I couldn't possibly give up anything else to Him other than "my" boys, which made me wonder if the next thing He would take would be Tim, Jack or the baby. After all, I clearly haven't learned yet to fully relinquish control of my life to Him; otherwise, this last change wouldn't have flattened me so fully.
I was distraught. We now had to find a home that we could move into within a couple of weeks or else tell this job offer that they would have to wait until after baby came, potentially costing us the job altogether. Los Angeles is notorious for being a terrible place to rent with prices much too high for income and so many areas that are extremely dangerous but only blocks from areas that would allow me to walk outside with the kids. It forced us to consider whether we immediately live "incarnationally" in the United States or pay more money to allow us a "safe" and comfortable place while we regather our bearings after Nepal and the many upheavals in our lives.
We made several more long drives to and from Long Beach from the southern-most tip of San Diego. Sometimes my mom was able to watch Jack, and that was life-saving, because the days that we had to drag him along with us in the car were nearly unbearable. The poor kid. All I can say is we definitely rotted his brain with more Kindle video time in order for all of us to survive.
The next place that we loved became more and more sketchy as things went on, so we ultimately turned away. Then we were debating between two completely different types of homes. We were now paranoid about losing a place and that, if one of them didn't come through, we would have to stay in San Diego until after the baby's arrival no matter what. So we applied for both and figured we would take the one God gave us first.
It ended up being the very, very first home we looked at in Long Beach. Tim kept referring to it as the "dumpy place." It certainly isn't fancy by any means, but it's an actual home with a backyard--which is currently a dustbowl in which Jack pretends to be an elephant taking dust baths, sometimes resulting in multiple water baths a day--but it is walking distance to several parks and a library. The commute is great for Tim's work and central to all our friends in the area. So it works, and we are grateful for it.
We moved last Tuesday and Tim started work on Friday. His schedule is 630am to 430 pm. For anyone who knows him well, you know how challenging it is for him to wake early. The bonus is he gets every other Friday off.
The day we moved, I called Medi-Cal, our current health insurance, to report our change of address. Before we even looked at moving, I made sure I had a doctor in Long Beach who would accept Medi-Cal and would accept me late in my OB care. I had also asked if we could cancel Medi-Cal so we could purchase insurance out of pocket; I was told we are locked into Medi-Cal for at least a couple more months until Tim's income is established. And I was assured by two Medi-Cal workers over the phone (this information is apparently not available in print anywhere) that I would easily be able to transfer counties within 24 hours of moving since I'm pregnant. And very pregnant. I tried reporting our change of address ahead of time but was told that's not allowed; I had to wait until we were actually living in the new location.
So I followed my instructions and, much to my dismay but not much to my surprise, the story completely changed. Instead of unpacking, I was bounced between four different offices with wait times of up to 1.5 hours and ultimately ended up with the "experts," who told me that I needed to continue seeing my doctor in San Diego for appointments but that, no worries, when I go into labor I can just go to any emergency room nearby our new home and deliver in that hospital. Wow, was I furious. Talk about a set up for a poor quality delivery, not to mention the rise in my anxiety. We would not have moved if I had been told this at the start of this whole process.
Ultimately the next day, it seems I was able to work things out. We'll find out for sure if we start receiving all the bills for my care. But I've met my new OB, who comes highly recommended by several doctor friends in the area, and since she is in solo practice, she'll be the one to deliver me. The hospital is just 10 minutes away from our home, so that's also good.
Our home is slowly coming together. We started with only Jack's furniture, thanks to my mom, and dining room chairs that I saved from Ventura because I was too attached to the effort of love it took to paint them green during residency. Tim is frantically putting together other furniture, hopefully before baby arrives, and I'm trying to unpack and buy the essentials for our home (flour, cleaning supplies, bed sheets, towels--all those lovely things) while keeping Jack entertained.
We are sad to leave San Diego, more central to family and where Jack fell absolutely in love with my mom. But we are very thankful for my mom, who provided us with a comfortable home to return to in the US. We are thankful for our friends in the area who have rallied around us, making us feel loved and supported during this crazy time. We are thankful Tim has a job. And we are thankful baby #2 has safely stayed inside despite the stress, allowing us at least a few days to settle in here. Jack arrived just a few days from this point in pregnancy, so this little guy could arrive any time. Please pray that, when he does arrive, he would come smoothly and safely. Hopefully our next post will be a joyful announcement of just that.
Tim diligently applied for job after job in the greater San Diego area but got almost no responses and no official interviews in two-and-a-half months. A previous employer, however, offered him a position in the Los Angeles area. He worked for them while I was in medical school and during my first year of residency, and they were always very good to him. They have since moved from South Pasadena to Compton--yes, THE Compton mentioned in all the gangster movies and songs. Long Beach is right next door, and we knew of some very good like-minded friends living in Long Beach. The more we looked into it, the more friends we found living in the area.
With no offers or pending interviews in San Diego, we felt it would be unwise to turn down this offer even though it's not at all in the geographical area we were hoping for. With the exception of the deep friendships that developed, neither of us enjoyed living in Los Angeles before, so we were not excited about returning. Yet again, it seems the Lord had different plans for us than we had hoped.
The house hunt started out exciting. On our first drive up (nearly 3 hours each way while pregnant and getting swollen), we absolutely fell in love with the last place we looked at for the day. We have never lived in a home that I loved because we have always chosen the place that is cheapest in order to be frugal with finances. This place was not only inexpensive, which would allow us to pay off my medical school loans more quickly, but it was also adorable and walking distance to the beach, a pool, a playground and a very popular street with lots of fun restaurants. Yay! We submitted our application with the expectation that we would likely be granted the home.
Nope. Once again, the plans were not to be. An acquaintance of the owners requested the home, so we lost it.
This surprisingly threw me into a deep despair. After all the struggles we have had, I suppose I wanted God to give us just one thing in a smooth way. At first I felt silly for being so upset about not getting the home. It's such a materialistic thing, after all. But then I realized that it represented so much more.
I have really been wanting stability after all the craziness in our lives, especially with a baby so close to arriving. This home represented that, and losing it meant a continuation of unknowns. I further realized that this loss made me recognize and grieve the many things that we have lost since making the decision to go to Nepal:
Having Jack grow up with family.
A "regular" stable job.
The "life" of a physician.
Attending weddings of close friends and family.
Being present for friends going through very difficult times.
Consistent community.
Being comfortable.
Getting comfortable and gaining confidence as a physician instead of changing environments so often at the beginning of my career.
Being able to apply for jobs or rent a home or obtain a car loan or sign up for utilities without being penalized for being out of the country for a couple years.
Being able to potty train Jack due to moving him around every few months.
Having a single doctor and hospital throughout my pregnancy versus three.
Having "normal" health insurance.
Why was God constantly changing the plan? And not just changing it but seemingly thrashing each one against the wall without regard to the survival of my soul. I wondered if we were just so far outside of His will that He had to do this to keep us on track or if this is just part of the life of committing to following Him anywhere and through anything. I felt like I couldn't possibly give up anything else to Him other than "my" boys, which made me wonder if the next thing He would take would be Tim, Jack or the baby. After all, I clearly haven't learned yet to fully relinquish control of my life to Him; otherwise, this last change wouldn't have flattened me so fully.
I was distraught. We now had to find a home that we could move into within a couple of weeks or else tell this job offer that they would have to wait until after baby came, potentially costing us the job altogether. Los Angeles is notorious for being a terrible place to rent with prices much too high for income and so many areas that are extremely dangerous but only blocks from areas that would allow me to walk outside with the kids. It forced us to consider whether we immediately live "incarnationally" in the United States or pay more money to allow us a "safe" and comfortable place while we regather our bearings after Nepal and the many upheavals in our lives.
We made several more long drives to and from Long Beach from the southern-most tip of San Diego. Sometimes my mom was able to watch Jack, and that was life-saving, because the days that we had to drag him along with us in the car were nearly unbearable. The poor kid. All I can say is we definitely rotted his brain with more Kindle video time in order for all of us to survive.
The next place that we loved became more and more sketchy as things went on, so we ultimately turned away. Then we were debating between two completely different types of homes. We were now paranoid about losing a place and that, if one of them didn't come through, we would have to stay in San Diego until after the baby's arrival no matter what. So we applied for both and figured we would take the one God gave us first.
It ended up being the very, very first home we looked at in Long Beach. Tim kept referring to it as the "dumpy place." It certainly isn't fancy by any means, but it's an actual home with a backyard--which is currently a dustbowl in which Jack pretends to be an elephant taking dust baths, sometimes resulting in multiple water baths a day--but it is walking distance to several parks and a library. The commute is great for Tim's work and central to all our friends in the area. So it works, and we are grateful for it.
We moved last Tuesday and Tim started work on Friday. His schedule is 630am to 430 pm. For anyone who knows him well, you know how challenging it is for him to wake early. The bonus is he gets every other Friday off.
The day we moved, I called Medi-Cal, our current health insurance, to report our change of address. Before we even looked at moving, I made sure I had a doctor in Long Beach who would accept Medi-Cal and would accept me late in my OB care. I had also asked if we could cancel Medi-Cal so we could purchase insurance out of pocket; I was told we are locked into Medi-Cal for at least a couple more months until Tim's income is established. And I was assured by two Medi-Cal workers over the phone (this information is apparently not available in print anywhere) that I would easily be able to transfer counties within 24 hours of moving since I'm pregnant. And very pregnant. I tried reporting our change of address ahead of time but was told that's not allowed; I had to wait until we were actually living in the new location.
So I followed my instructions and, much to my dismay but not much to my surprise, the story completely changed. Instead of unpacking, I was bounced between four different offices with wait times of up to 1.5 hours and ultimately ended up with the "experts," who told me that I needed to continue seeing my doctor in San Diego for appointments but that, no worries, when I go into labor I can just go to any emergency room nearby our new home and deliver in that hospital. Wow, was I furious. Talk about a set up for a poor quality delivery, not to mention the rise in my anxiety. We would not have moved if I had been told this at the start of this whole process.
Ultimately the next day, it seems I was able to work things out. We'll find out for sure if we start receiving all the bills for my care. But I've met my new OB, who comes highly recommended by several doctor friends in the area, and since she is in solo practice, she'll be the one to deliver me. The hospital is just 10 minutes away from our home, so that's also good.
Our home is slowly coming together. We started with only Jack's furniture, thanks to my mom, and dining room chairs that I saved from Ventura because I was too attached to the effort of love it took to paint them green during residency. Tim is frantically putting together other furniture, hopefully before baby arrives, and I'm trying to unpack and buy the essentials for our home (flour, cleaning supplies, bed sheets, towels--all those lovely things) while keeping Jack entertained.
We are sad to leave San Diego, more central to family and where Jack fell absolutely in love with my mom. But we are very thankful for my mom, who provided us with a comfortable home to return to in the US. We are thankful for our friends in the area who have rallied around us, making us feel loved and supported during this crazy time. We are thankful Tim has a job. And we are thankful baby #2 has safely stayed inside despite the stress, allowing us at least a few days to settle in here. Jack arrived just a few days from this point in pregnancy, so this little guy could arrive any time. Please pray that, when he does arrive, he would come smoothly and safely. Hopefully our next post will be a joyful announcement of just that.
 |
| Our new home on moving day! New address: 1992 Raymond Avenue; Signal Hill, CA 90755 |
 |
| Jack received a doctor's outfit and had fun checking on baby and me. |
 |
| Jack enjoyed his brother's baby shower. |
No comments:
Post a Comment