Babies, money and moving

First, I have to say that I NEVER realized that kids were so expensive BEFORE they are born. So far, we have an entire room full of new furniture, a stroller, car seat, some clothes for the baby, more maternity clothes for me, a few boxes of diapers and wipes and a bassinet. Luckily, a LOT of this came by way of gift from my family and Nate's. Thank goodness, because what seems like all of our money is going out to the various doctors that I see and tests that I have to have done. Another blessing through this whole pregnancy is the timing. Baby girl will be here in December, which means that we are just in time to get the tax deduction for 2011. PLUS, we have reached all of the out-of-pocket maximums on our insurance now, so the delivery will be paid 100% by insurance. I've done my research on the cost to have a baby. A normal, non-complicated delivery can be $6,000+. Add in any complications, like say a C-section, and this number just keeps getting bigger.

Don't get me wrong, Nate and I are very excited and extremely grateful for this baby. I know that there are so many people out there that desperately want kids and can't get pregnant. Or, people that know they can't get pregnant, but can't afford the alternatives of in-vitro or adoption. I am convinced that Heavenly Father has a special plan for each of these couples and no doubt blessings will come.

My point in writing all of this, is that I just don't understand how it is all going to work out for us. I can't even begin to fathom how much money we will spend once our daughter is born...and then adding 2-3 children to this in the future.

So, how does all of this relate to moving? Well, aside from  a healthy child, we want nothing more than to be out of California permanently. Neither Nate nor I like living here. Southern California is too crowded, and the people that live here are rude for the most part. It's not a safe place for kids to grow up in. There is not easy access to camping, hiking, fishing, hunting...all the things that we love to do and want our kids to grow up with. Yes, I know that we CAN do all of those things here, but it's not that easy. You have to drive for hours in awful traffic to get anywhere with the type of outdoor recreation that we enjoy. We want to live in a place that is close to the mountains (and by close, I mean 20 minute drive max). A place where we feel safe letting our children play outside, and safe sending them to school. A place where Nate can work in a career that he loves, instead of a job that he does just to provide for our family. A place where we can afford a house and perhaps some property. We want animals. Hunting dogs at the very least, but we'd like some chickens and maybe a cow too. A place where people are friendly to their neighbors, and the word "gator" doesn't mean an amphibian that lives in a swamp. A place where "usta could" is a normal phrase and hunt isn't a four letter word. I know, this probably sounds crazy to most of you, but this is where our heart and soul belongs. We were never meant to live in the "city".

Now to the dilemma. I have a really good job here that isn't exactly transferable to Utah or Colorado (our top two choices to move). I am teaching too, which is good experience, but to move for just a teaching job would mean taking a HUGE pay cut. Money isn't the most important thing, (not even close) but we do need it to survive. Nate is starting to work as an EMT, which is a little more transferable than my job, but if any of you have moved across state lines, finding a job is not easy. We can't just pack up and move without the prospect of at least one job. So how in the heck do we ever get out of here?!

I suppose the real answer lies in faith. Faith that Heavenly Father is aware of us and knows what we need. Faith that He will never leave us, regardless of our circumstances. Faith that a path will be made known to us, as long as we continue to do our part. Faith that as we follow the Spirit, we will be led in the direction that is best for us, even if we don't think so at the time. This is the hardest lesson I have to learn in mortality.