Who says you can't go home again?

When my husband and I found ourselves unexpectedly expecting, we were not in the most desirable of financial situations. In fact, we were pretty much broke. We were renting a cute little house in a swanky artsy neighborhood and we were behind on rent. Between credit card bills, student loans and two not-so-lucrative jobs, we were struggling to say the least. One of the first thoughts I had after learning I was pregnant was "How are we going to provide for this child?" followed by the inevitable "What the hell have we gotten ourselves in to?"

When I called to tell my mother I was pregnant, she sounded genuinely excited for me. Or maybe excited for her, her only other grandchild lives out of town and here we are, 5 miles away. When she heard the fear in my voice over the phone, she realized that I was feeling more anxiety than your usual "Whoops we're pregnant" jitters. She hung up the phone and was on her way to our house.

There are several things I simply will not discuss with my mother: Sex, politics, and how to check her e-mail are just a few. Money is another one. Partly because I am too proud to admit that I can't do it all, and partly because I am embarrassed about some of the financial choices I have made in my past. The irony in all of this is that my mother would be the perfect person to talk to--she works in finance.

The night my mother came to our house and went over our money situation I will always consider to be the most anxious, humiliating, and uncomfortable night of my life. Not at all due to my mother of course. She looked over everything without any judgement at all. She blankly noted without a hint of sarcasm that I was still paying credit card interest on a weekend getaway I had taken with a boyfriend about 8 years earlier. Or that we were overdue on a personal loan my husband had taken out so we could get his car fixed (we used what was left over to go skydiving in Key West). No, my mother was incredible. The problem was accountability. This debt wasn't real unless people knew about it. My husband and I had stopped making ridiculous and outrageous purchases long before this. As long as we weren't spending like fools anymore, we were ok, right? Not so much.

As our bills spread out before us, littering our dining room table with the financial mistakes of our past, and my mother clicked away furiously at her calculator, I began to slowly understand something: we will not be able to do this on our own. It hit me like a ton of bricks and sucked the wind out of me. We have failed. We are adults who can't take care of themselves. We have a baby on the way and we are big fat failures. What are we going to do.

Tears were beginning to stream down my face as I began to run scenarios in my head: we can move into a one bedroom apartment in a nasty part of town. How much rent can we afford? We can maybe get a roommate... who wouldn't mind living with a married couple and a baby? We can get second jobs... I can probably two jobs until I am at least 7 or 8 months pregnant... Panic began to set in. My mind began to race. I can't believe we were so stupid. I can't believe we were so stupid. I can't believe we were so STUPID!!!

My mom looked up from her calculator. "The good news is that with some serious saving you can pay this all off fairly quickly. All we need to do is cut out some of your expenses. By the looks of it you spend most of your money on rent. If we can lower or get rid of that expense, you really will be able to make some headway into this debt."

I looked at my husband. "Well, we can look into some one bedrooms or even some studios. It doesn't really matter if its a bad area because by the time the baby is old enough for school we might be able to get a place in a nicer area."

"Or you could come stay with me."

I wasn't sure if I had heard her correctly. My mother still lives in the house in which my brother and I spent most of our youth. Not the largest of houses, it is cozy and some part of me always calls it home. A home that I had left ten years earlier to go off to college and find myself. I had gone to see the world, to leave my mark, to succeed and to contribute to the world at large. Here I was, married, pregnant, broke, in my late-twenties and unable to take care of myself. How embarrassing.

I tried to explain all of these things to my mother and husband but all I seemed to be able to get out were some tears and muffled variations of "I'm so sorry" and "I can't believe this is my life". (I tend to get a bit dramatic)

While my husband sat stoically staring at the wall (I'm guessing he was thinking the same things I was, just handling differently), my mother very tenderly explained to me that the economy was in terrible shape and that it was during these times throughout history that families come together to help each other. She said that she understood why I was upset but that being upset and wasn't going to help my situation. "What's done is done, you can't go back. It's time to move forward. It's not about you anymore, it's about this baby and what's best for him."

I looked up at my mother. "I'm so sorry mom".

"There is nothing to be sorry for, you can do this. It's just a matter of having the money to pay off the debt. This will eliminate your biggest expense."

My husband and I looked at each other. This wasn't going to be easy. I swallowed hard. I swallowed again. I felt a huge lump that I assumed was my pride go down my throat. I smiled gratefully at my mother. She smiled back. We made our decision. We were going to move in with my mother. This was going to be interesting.