7 months married and a 2 week old newborn. That's what our family looked like when we made the drastic move to Atlanta. My husband was a third year transfer student at a college there.  It was a rocky start. 

Just the day before our move in August, 

I was crying on the bedroom floor of our new "apartment" (I use that term loosely since it's more of an expanded dorm). Fifteen minutes after we got our keys to our new home, my husband says "There's no way we can afford this...Let's go give the keys back." Let me explain the significance of this statement. This was our ONLY option for living together as a family while he went to school. If we couldn't afford it, this meant we would have to live separately, HOURS apart with one vehicle. I don't know if it was the post-partem hormones but I just fell on floor crying "but that means I will have to take care of her by myself." 

"I will visit on the weekends," he says trying to console me. What college student could really afford to make a special trip every weekend and especially at a tough one like this? I remember thinking, "So, I'm supposed to take care of this newborn with no help from the father, no job, and no place of our own. I have to start a life by myself all over!" I made my final plea, "Lets just TRY it. If nothing gets better financially by December, me and the baby will move back in with my mother and you can move to the regular dorms." We made the long drive back to finish packing and I prayed the whole way.

Can I tell you a secret? I never asked my mother. I had faith (though slim at times) that something would come through for us and it did. We had some serious struggles that semester but we made it.