Just four months after we lost the baby, I got a call from CPS (child protective services) that they had picked up the kids from school and that we were under investigation for child abuse. Two months after that, our landlord came and told us that he and his wife were getting a divorce and that she was getting our house in the settlement, so we had to move out as immediately as possible.
Sometimes you ask yourself, "How much worse can it get?". Don't ever do that, because it always gets worse. In six months time, we had a miscarriage, lost custody of Rick's kids and were essentially homeless.
Fortunately, a week after finding out about our housing situation, the house NEXT door became available to rent, and we moved in. It was a nicer place and the rent was less. We were so happy, and since it wasn't that far, the move was really easy. Awesome!
We settled into our new house and life continued. I had a severe flare up with my RSD and required going back to physical therapy. That was actually a good thing, because I was at home all day, alone and was not dealing well with the solitude. At lease having to leave the house for an hour, three times a week forced me to get out of bed, shower and change my clothes.
The depression was lessening, but it was slow going. Rick was never home, so I was there alone to wallow in my own pity. Not good.
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