*gulp*

So, I did it.

Today I put in for an official leave of absence. I am now unemployed for the first time since I was sixteen.

I'm still not sure if it was the smartest move I've ever made, or the dumbest.

For better or worse, I am now financially dependent on Mo. While I'm confident he can take care of me in this regard, I'm so fiercely independent by nature that this doesn't sit 100% well with me. I'm simply not used to depending on anyone besides myself, not used to not contributing financially. Does this mean a power shift in our household? Probably. I'm realistic enough to know that money = power even in the very best of relationships. The power to decide, for instance, on the house we will rent. Will he ask my input? Of course. Will, ultimately, the decision rest with him because he is the one signing the checks? Undoubtedly.

Are you beginning to sense some of my money issues, here, people?

I really think, though, that this shift might actually be good for our marriage.

Without a doubt, I've taken the leadership role financially and emotionally in our relationship. I've been reluctant to give up those reins, for various reasons. Mo has, for the most part, allowed me to do this quite gracefully. Have I perhaps made him feel as though he doesn't contribute in the process? I am quite sure I have. This is, in part, one way that I can give him some purpose back, help him to feel needed and necessary. Which, in turn, will (I hope) have a positive effect on his self-esteem, which will only be good for us.

Does it feel strange, this new life that I'm headed for? Indeed. It feels awkward and somewhat alien, like the sudden growth spurt of puberty where your body that is clearly your own somehow overnight becomes yours no longer.

And yet I have hope that soon I will begin to feel at home in this new skin, in this new life that I've longed for. I have hope that my husband, who is re-emerging more and more each day, and I will be able to reconnect, to find those people who have been hiding under the clouds of depression for much longer than either of us would like to admit.

It may seem to my new readers that this move is extreme, based on the circumstances. And, had it only been my miscarriage that prompted it, I would tend to agree. But the truth of the matter is that Mo and I have been floundering for years. We got lost in his father's illness, his passing, Mo's illness, our grief. I lost myself in the battle against infertility, a battle I still hope to win one day. Instead of growing closer, we've grown apart.

This move is our attempt to start fresh. To erase four years of bad memories and heartache. To find, once again, the people we loved. Will it work? I don't have the slightest idea.

I simply know that I have to try.