I haven't written in months, to be completely honest I have not felt like it. The words escaped me on every level. For the past eight torturous months Rob and I were living in the ghetto. This isn't south side of Chicago ghetto but not the place I imagined bringing our child home to either. We struggled and tried everything under the sun to support ourselves as well as had some much needed support from family and friends. We tried every trick we could to keep our spirits up, we pushed each other and pushed ourselves to keep trying, we failed more times than we succeeded but we kept trying. Still the building and area we were living in caused both Rob and I to sink into depression as it sucked every ounce of motivation from us due to lack of sleep and the general environment to which we had to deal with.
At night during the summer we heard countless arguments and saw fist fights of women who were fighting over some man who was cheating on them. During the day the police and ambulance sirens would drown out any conversation Rob and I would try to have. On Saturday's from 11 am till 6 pm we heard the church across the street scream "Fish Fry" and "Save Our Church" repeatedly while blaring everything from Christian rap to gospel at levels that prevented us from hearing our own TV, music, or even each other. This church, that was begging for donations, didn't even hold a service at that location. After several attempts to ask them to turn down the music, and eventually asking to see the permit they were required to have for those types of events, we were instead told to "mind our own business or else."
At one point or another due to lack of sleep Rob and/or I snapped and would scream at people sitting outside telling them to quiet down. This stopped out of concern for safety when one night we heard our first gun shot. Still throughout the summer and on any decent night the neighbors would deal drugs or prostitute themselves off the stoop located directly under our windows. We adopted a see nothing, say nothing mentality after this.
As the weather cooled down the neighbors started bringing their antics into our hallways. What appeared as drunks and drug induced highs would often be found sleeping in our stairwells, laundry rooms, and even in our parking lot. One day I sat in the apartment alone and a lady screamed running through the halls, while knocking on doors asking for help. I've always been someone who would help anyone needing it, yet in this case I instead stayed in the locked apartment quiet with phone in hand. I feared that it was a scam and that I might be hurt if I tried to help. It happened again later that night while Rob was home and I immediately called the police. When they arrived they knew who we had described and explained that she can't afford her bi-polar medication and when she runs out this behavior is the result. I have never dealt with bi-polar so if this is a side effect I really wouldn't know.
Neighbors can be a problem no matter where you go, however there is one thing that solidified our need to escape the hell we had come into. The building was infested with three different species of roaches. It did not matter how much we cleaned, sprayed, set out traps, or kept our food in closed containers, the roaches were so bad and they kept coming back. While the landlord sprayed if you asked him to, the roaches would just move to another apartment for a day or two and be right back. At one point after spotting dead baby roaches in the freezer, all eating in the apartment stopped. We kept few items in the house and we ate a lot of $5 pizza's from Little Ceasars, in the car so we could throw out the box. When we did eat in the apartment it was off paper plates with plastic utensils so we could remove any food from the apartment quickly to help minimize the roach infestation.
For both Rob and I we found that there was no light at the end of the tunnel so we had to make our own light. We tried to make the best of our situation around Christmas by setting up a tree and decorations. We celebrated with family and friends. Our friends from Google+ made the holiday more enjoyable with Secret Santa gifts. We both pushed ourselves a lot to enjoy the holiday as much as we could. We talked a lot about the baby. We set the plans for how we were going to better save and plan for the future. How we wanted to set ourselves up for success so that the low point never happened again. We found ourselves in a better place mentally as we pushed to turn our hell into a life lesson for us to pass down, so our children never make the same mistakes we made financially putting us in the position we were in.
After the new year; life took a turn for the better. We started looking for a new place to live. Finally, as of last week; with the help of Rob's mom we moved into a house. It's a three bedroom rental in a quiet neighborhood. We have a fenced in backyard and a basement. After a hellish week fogging the apartment, cleaning, and fogging the apartment again, we are finally roach free and living in a nice community.
The first thing I started doing after the move was laundry, washing every blanket, pillow, and item of clothing we own. The next thing I did was start cooking again. I've realized how much I missed cooking, more than that I missed sitting at a table to eat off real plates using real utensils. Rob is setting up his own man cave in the basement. He insists I'm allowed down there, but I think for the most part I will leave it to be his area. I have started crocheting again, finished one shawl, started on another and a baby blanket. This morning I sit at my dining room table and type this out for you all while I sip on fresh coffee from one of my favorite mugs.
Being away from the hell has brought about a renewed motivation for both Rob and I. Our depression is lifting quickly as we catch up on sleep and set up our new home. I can cook healthier meals with fresh vegetables again, and if I want pizza I make it homemade now. In fact the massive weight gain has stopped due to my ability to eat properly. At my last doctors appointment the doctor said I am doing wonderfully on my diet as I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. He's proud of the control I've had over my blood sugars and the baby is very healthy. This of course will become another post that I'm sure you all will love reading.
You would think that I would be grateful that the hell is over, and I am. I am however; more grateful for going through it. The greatest lesson I took from all of this was to be grateful of all the little things. Being able to take a long bath again without the worry of a roach climbing down the wall. Being able to enjoy fresh healthy foods like salads and grilled chicken. Being able to bake goodies. Not having to check the dog food and cat food for roaches. Not having 80 year old drafty windows on the coldest nights of the season. Being awakened in the middle of the night due to bladder instead of loud neighbors. I'm most grateful for mornings like this one, with a hot cup of coffee and a silent house to work in.
The dark time has passed and while the silence and calm may disappear with the addition of our baby boy in a short 6 weeks or less, I am peaceful knowing that when I bring him home he will be in a safe and clean environment. Tough times happen, it's important to learn what you can from them. When you survive you come out of it stronger and hopefully with a better perspective. I can now breathe a huge sigh of relief, and it sure does feel good.
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