I had surgery for my high-risk pregnancy and then lost my job shortly after.
The surgery and job loss led my husband and me to move out of our apartment and in with my parents.
We told ourselves it would be temporary, three months max. It’s been eight months so far.
Getting pregnant is an exciting and life-changing experience, but my pregnancy was anything but smooth sailing.
Early on, I found out I had an incompetent cervix. Within weeks, my cervix had drastically shortened in length, which increased my risk for a pre-term birth and threatened the baby’s chance for survival.
I immediately got a surgical procedure called an emergency cervical cerclage, a stitch to reduce the risks. The doctor told me that post-surgery, I would need to avoid strenuous exercise, heavy lifting, and walking up and down stairs for the next 5 months—the rest of my pregnancy.
We had to move because of my high-risk pregnancy
Luhar Field assembling a bed in her beloved apartment.Courtesy of Monica Luhar Field
The problem was that my husband and I lived in an upstairs apartment with no elevator.
We loved that apartment. It was a spacious 1,200-square-foot, 2-bedroom, 2-bath in California, and we paid about $2,500 a month in rent. We moved there during the pandemic in 2021.
It was where my husband carried me up the stairs after our wedding. It was where we’d eaten takeout on the balcony with our plant babies during a bad case of COVID. And it was the first place where our families got together and had tequila shots, celebrating our move.
Luhar Field’s plant babies.Courtesy of Monica Luhar Field
The thought of moving out felt bittersweet after four years of so many fond memories, but the pregnancy and baby’s health were more important.
Plus, I lost my job, less than a week after my surgery, which affected my ability to contribute toward rent.
Moving in with my parents was helpful, but not ideal
Luhar Field in her childhood bedroom at her parents’ house.Courtesy of Monica Luhar Field
After my surgery in November 2024, I moved in with my parents in their single-story home. The following month, we gave a 30-day notice to our leasing manager.
I had to be selective about what I brought to my parents’ home. My husband stayed behind to move everything we couldn’t bring, like furniture, into a storage unit.
Being apart from him was difficult, especially because I was pregnant, not having much luck with my job search, and trying not to stress because it could affect the pregnancy. My husband joined me at my parents’ home at the end of January.
We thought that by now we’d have our own house to start a family. We felt behind because we hadn’t hit the milestones we thought we should have, like homeownership and not having to live paycheck to paycheck.
We’re making it work
Moving into my parents’ home has been a lifesaver, but it also has its share of challenges.
My 110-square-foot childhood room now doubles as a nursery and bedroom for my husband, me, and the baby—who was born premature in February.
Despite the small space, we’ve managed to fit a queen-sized bed, large swivel bassinet, baby changing station, TV, fan, an air purifier, bookshelf and two lamps, diaper trashcan, dresser on wheels, and under-bed storage rollers for clothes.
We only planned to stay with my parents temporarily—three months max. It’s been eight months, so far.
My parents have been a great help throughout the whole process, but I can’t help but feel like I should have moved out by now.
However, my husband is the sole breadwinner right now, and that’s not enough to afford housing in our area. It will require a dual income, but despite my applying to many, many freelance, contract, and full-time jobs, I haven’t heard back or landed any interviews.
Plus, raising a preemie baby requires extra attention and care. We do need a larger space. For now, though, we’ve paused our house hunt until my job situation improves.
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