analishaappleberry

I’m pretty sure I started my blog off on the wrong foot. I should’ve told everyone a little about me  before jumping right into things. So here is my introduction. My name is Analisha Appleberry. I am 19 years old. I live in a one bedroom apartment with my amazing boyfriend and our beautiful one year old daughter. Recently we went through a miscarriage and although I was in pain both physically and mentally, I still had to go to an interview for a job so that we could find a 2 bedroom apartment that we could move into. It seems no one wants to rent to people that don’t make the amount that rent is in a week of work. Unfortunately even with my boyfriend making 16 an hour fulltime we’re just shy of this standard. Basically, until I can find a job that will work with my limited availability, I am a stay at home mom. Although I love staying at home all day with my daughter, I would love it even more if I could get a job to better provide for her and finally get a place big enough for her to have a big girl bed in her own room. Well, that’s pretty much me.

For quite some time now, I have been searching for a job. Before I found out about the surgery which happened the same day I found out it was needed, I had a scheduled interview the very next day. So even though I needed to rest and cope with the loss that my boyfriend and I had encountered the previous day, I went to this interview because I still have a daughter who needs her mommy. At this point, I absolutely need a job. Right now, me, my boyfriend, and our daughter live in a one bedroom apartment. At first it was great because she was just a little baby and we needed a place to go since traveling from Harrisburg to Lancaster everyday for his job wasn’t working. Now our daughter, Analise, is almost 2 years old, and we are still here. She needs a room and proper bed that fits her.

Right now, only my boyfriend is working. He is a full time supervisor making great pay. The only problem is, while looking for a 2 bedroom for our little family most of the rent prices we see are 850 per month. This is no where near a problem for us considering the income we currently have, but to the renters it is because they for some reason expect someone to make the amount of rent per week.  This would not be a problem of course if it were easy for me to get a job. Being a parent of a young child who isn’t able to speak for themselves just yet means you may be picky in not wanting them to be taken care of by someone you don’t know. As a parent you have a right in wanting to make sure your child is completely safe in your hands or the hands of someone you know and trust. In our case, this leaves my availability for a part time job between opening ours for somewhere till 2 pm daily because the boyfriend works 2 shift and we need to be able to take turns watching our daughter seeing as we know absolutely no one here.

My problem with this is that I have been to countless interviews and applied to countess jobs to no avail. Apparently being a part time employee means that although you tell them you can only work part time they don’t want you because they want you to be their slave and work whenever they need to call you in. Sure that may be a little over the top, but it’s what it feels like. It’s honestly beginning to make me feel like my potential employers are judgmental towards parents who want to keep their children out of daycare for as long as possible. Literally no one wants to work with my availability. If I were applying for fulltime I would understand why no one wants to hire me, but when you apply for part time and give your availability on your application, then you call me in for an interview, and still don’t want to hire me because of my availability, why did you waste my time. I need a job to support my daughter and give her the life she deserves.

This whole post was just a rant and was completely useless for anyone who decided to read it, but I need to get some things off my chest. I still have plenty worries to complain about, but for no I think I’ve shared enough.

 

These past few days have not only been confusing, they’ve been hell for me and my boyfriend. We found out we were pregnant with our second child about a week ago. We were of course scared and excited as we looked at the 2 pink lines of the pregnancy test. The nightmare started only 2 days after we found out. I began to bleed and my stomach was in slight pain. At first I thought nothing of it because I knew cramping and even minimal bleeding was normal with pregnancy. When I called my doctor to tell them what was going on they scheduled us for the next available appointment which happened to be the very next day. Although I knew that if there was ever a scare, the doctor’s only wanted to see what may be the issue(or concern) as soon as possible to make sure both mommy and baby can be as healthy as possible.

As the doctor examined me, I felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t because this examination was new to me. It was because the way the doctor was explaining the things she was feeling was nothing like my first pregnancy at all. Then, she told me and my boyfriend that I would need blood testing and an ultrasound stat so we could discuss our options further once they could see farther into what was going on. From here, we just knew the outcome wouldn’t be good, but we stayed strong and hoped for the best as we went back for father examination. Even in the ultrasound room, I knew something was wrong no matter how hard the technician tried to make it seem like it might be okay. I knew that I should’ve seen SOMETHING on that ultrasound screen if there was a baby beginning to grow….but there was nothing.

After the ultrasound we were told to go to yet another room where I needed to get undressed and wear a gown. We waited for a little before the nurse came in and once again took my vitals and asked my name and birthdate. Shortly after, the doctor came in. This is when, if it wasn’t already clear, we knew for sure bad news was coming. She sat down and began to tell us that I was having an ectopic pregnancy. This means that my pregnancy was forming in my fallopian tube. She continued to tell e that no matter what they do, this will not be a successful pregnancy for us. She needed to complete a surgery where she would go into my fallopian tube and retrieve the baby that was growing. He or she was already 3 cm. I was about 8 weeks along.

In a way I think it’s easier to have parted with the baby because it had yet to kick and allow me to feel its movement. At the same time it’s the hardest thing to imagine how it could’ve been. Even though we had only just found out about being pregnant, I began to imagine just how great it would be to be truly prepared for this one with everything we needed to do it right. I though about how I would be able to hold such a small delicate little thing again. I though knowing how to comfort this infant when it cries at night because now I know what I would be doing. It breaks my heart knowing that this baby had no chance of survival, but with the chance of me bleeding out if I continued to allow the baby to grow, not only was I at risk of dying, but the baby was as well. As much as I would’ve loved to give the baby the chance to maybe grow and somehow grow into where it belonged in the uterus, I knew it was best to get the surgery so that my daughter that I already have wasn’t  at risk of being motherless.