Day 221: A look into my past…pregnancy that is

I’ve often thought about how I wished I started blogging while pregnant.  I mean pregnancy has its ups and downs…it has its comedic moments and its sorrows…it has its joys and disappointments…well I could keep going on and on.  But really, pregnancy makes for some good blog fodder.  So I’ve decided to share a story with you that happened when I was pregnant, though it’s completely unrelated to my pregnancy, but the reactions I had to said events were definitely pregnancy related…you know where those hormones get in the way of you living your life and you think the world is about to end.

Do you remember when our country’s economy started to go down the toilet?  Well do you know what government funded program always seems to be on the chopping block when such things happen?  If you guessed education, you are correct, though there are so many other valuable and important programs that seem to always be on the chopping block.  What this means though, is that the money that trickles down to local governments slows down in the realm of education.  And after programs within education are cut…you know all those goodies like music and sports, talk begins to surround letting teachers go.  Officially this is called R.I.F. or Reduction in Force.

Side Note:  For the longest time I thought it was called “rift.”  I had no clue why and I had no clue what it meant except that you would get let go. Please don’t laugh at me.

This talk was all going on towards the end of my second year of teaching, you know the one where I got knocked up.  When talks of R.I.F. start occurring it is always around teachers with less seniority.  It’s unfortunate, well in most cases…my case really…that teachers who are lowest on the totem pole get cut.  It’s the fair way to do it.  Oh, and this is not based on years in the school district or at a specific school.  It is simply based on how many years you have been teaching.

I was 66.6% sure that I would not be affected.  I mean I had a whole year on many novice teachers, plus my experience as a substitute before being hired on full time counted.  But guess what?  Guess who doesn’t get cut because of teacher shortages in specific areas?  That would be Special Education and ESL (English as a Second Language) teachers.  And well b/c there is such a shortage, those are the most hired newbie teachers in any given district.  What that meant was that I was one of the last people on the seniority list to get a R.I.F. letter.  Oh, and did I tell you that I was newly pregnant yet?  Like a couple weeks before I got this news I was 11 weeks pregnant, saw the heart beat several times, and felt comfortable enough to announce it to staff and students that I was with child.

So here is how this all went down…at least how my brain perceived it all with those newly raging pregnancy hormones…

1. After school I was asked into a classroom by my principal.  There was the school’s counselor, and another teacher who was newly hired when I was.
2. We were told that we would be receiving R.I.F. letters.  (Cue hysterics from me…like I can’t breathe I’m crying so hard hysterics)
3. We were told that the next morning, before school started, the head of HR would meet with us to officially give us said letters.  Oh, and the Superintendent of the school district would be there too.  (Apparently he was taking this news just as hard and felt the need to sit down with each fired R.I.F letter recipient.)
4. I got up, wiped my tears, got in my car, and cried myself home.  (I’m effing pregnant, need effing money and now I don’t have an effing job!)
5. I sat on the couch, waiting for my husband to come home.  As soon as he walked in, I cried hysterically, and managed to blubber out the bad news I received.  (He was relieved that it was job related.  He thought someone had died with how much in hysterics I was in.)
6. We talked about how we would make it through it and at least I would get unemployment.
7. The next morning at that effing meeting was all about me breaking down and crying in front of some pretty big wigs in the school district.  When talk of COBRA started, I blubberd out, “I’m pregnant…..(insert sobs)…I need insurance…(insert more sobs).”  (It’s all pretty embarrassing if you ask me.) We were given the option to go home paid if we wanted time to gather ourselves.  (Oh, how kind of you, but no thanks.  I will just cry all day if I have nothing to do.)
8. Before we left, it was explained that in our contracts, there is a date we have to be told by if we are to get a R.I.F. letter, and that once the district had more time to work on number crunching, that there was a possibility that I could get rehired.  (Great.  That’s all I need…more uncertainty in my life.)

The next month of so (honestly I can’t remember how much time lapsed) I kept on getting looks of “Oh I’m so sorry,” and another teacher even cried for us laid off R.I.F.’d teachers.  It was also filled with uncertainty and questions to my principal as to if he had any insider information.  Also, the hubs and I discussed that perhaps if I didn’t get hired back, and you know didn’t get a job b/c who the hell is going to hire someone who is pregnant, that perhaps it was meant to be.  Perhaps we could figure it out with unemployment and COBRA and such…at least for a little bit while I figured out a whole new job thing.  Perhaps I could be a SAHM for a bit.  Perhaps.  (Note:  In retrospect, there is no way we would have lasted too long with bills and such and me not working…well we would have lasted but our house wouldn’t have.) And of course it was super hard to have focus and drive when it came to doing my job.

Well, just about a couple weeks before the end of the school year, I got the news.  I was hired back.  In fact, everyone who got R.I.F letters got hired back.  Numbers were crunched, principals decided not to take raises, other things happened that I can’t remember, and we all had jobs.

The best part of this all was that my doctor kept telling me to try to relax and stay stress free during my pregnancy, especially with all that history of anxiety I have going.  I kind of wish he could  you have told that to my employer.

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