Baby's are expensive?

When I first found out I was pregnant one of my immediate thoughts was 'how the hell am I going to afford everything?!'

And if I'm being honest, 30 weeks later, I am still feeling something similar. 

The government had stopped the Health in Pregnancy Grant at the beginning of last year. And the new Healthy Start vouchers and the Sure Start Maternity grant don't apply to me because I get contribution based benefits, not income related. Although it would mean the same amount of money physically, income related benefits do act as gateway benefits. But because I have paid tax, and in Iain Duncan Smith's words I am getting 'something for something', I am entitled to **** all (*insert own word).

Bizarrely the government would have covered the cost of NHS treatment for an abortion.

Add in to this that the government also expect me to be looking for work. I'm claiming Employment & Support Allowance as not been well enough to work, which was the result of a tribunal process I don't ever want to have to go through again. Initially I was happy to be finally accepted on to the work program, but as usual I'm beginning to think its a thinly disguised excuse to waste money. I actually felt rather bullied at my last appointment. I don't feel having to constantly justify myself to them is helping anyone, especially when I am just repeating myself.

Oh yeah, and just out of interest, any employers want to employ someone who cannot commit to longer than eight weeks (at a push) and then need to be replaced as on maternity leave?

Work program. Really?

After my long ongoing battle with the DWP, I have finally been accepted on to the work program. As I mentioned in an early blog post, I was refered following an appointment with a jobcentre advisor. I was warned that I may not be accepted as I was pregnant. 

So yesterday was my first appointment with the company running the program. Before I had even left the house, I knew I was going to struggle. I just didn't want to go out. I know I wanted this appointment and it was hopefully going to help me, but just the thought of leaving the house was terrifying me.

Fortunately, my good friends on Twitter talked to me and I resolved that I would be ok, panic attacks may feel like I'm having heart attack, but I wont die! 

I managed to get there, I'll skip the vomiting and two more panic attacks, on time.

I waited outside the building, no response to buzzer, hmmm ok. Somebody let me in, when she arrived. I waited in reception. Nobody there, nor did it look like they would be soon. I could see the door for the company I needed to be at. After waiting 10 minutes or so, I decided to just go in. When I did, I saw a reception style desk, again nobody there. There were a few people in the office, but not seemed to acknowledge me. A man walked over and asked if he could help. I told him I had an appointment to see someone. He told me to take a seat whilst he got him. 

My advisor came to the desk, shouted over to me that he needed to get some stuff, they don't normally have customers until 10:00 and he doesn't know why I was booked in that early.

I cannot help but think, 'who cares, I have known about the appointment for a week, I'm sure you have too, why aren't you ready for me?!'

Basically the appointment is form filling. The advisor gave me a rough guide to what they do. I have to tell him that I am not on Jobseeker's, I haven't been looking for work, I am claiming ESA and why, and oh I'm pregnant. I am made two further appointments, neither time asked if they were convenient, although he did change one when I asked.

He asked me when I saw myself back in employment. I said within 12 months. He seemed a little shocked. 'Even with a baby?' Like I was going to stroll up to work, with a newborn suckling my breast. 'I presume there are options.' At which point he told me he would discuss the benefits system with me. 

I know the point of this program is to help people in to work, (I thought) from sickness benefits. I have struggled to survive with the ongoing battles with the DWP and now I'm wondering if having a child means they no longer give a sh*t. I'm one less statistic, because I will no longer be sick / disabled / Mental health patient, but a single mother.

All in all, I managed to get myself worked up and stressed out for nothing. To be honest, I could have returned forms and posted in my C.V.. 

As I cannot return to my previous role, I am considering what I want to do. I know I have a lot of transferrable skills and experience, I just don't know where I want to transfer them too.

I need a careers advisor....

Anybody know one who works with lost cases?

Leaking Intellect (An Alphabet Story)

"Another day, another dollar". What a stupid mantra, I say looking at the aged animation on the wall.
Bloody stupid job, I despised the job, I could feel my I.Q. lower each day.
"Customer service: there is no traffic jam on the extra mile"
Do they really expect people to buy in to this crap?
Easy money is how my colleagues describe this job.
Few of them knew the real reason I'm here.
Getting in to position and setting up, simple enough, but I'm annoyed that I have to be here early to do this.
Here I am, ten minutes before my shift officially starts, hunting for a chair and loading programs.
I can't believe that I have to skip my last smoke for four hours to come in and play musical chairs, snatching one whilst someone's away.
Joke! That's what it is. A fecking joke.
Keeping a simple thing like a chair should be easier, surely you'd notice someone leave with one? So why were there less chairs then desks?
Looking at the clock in the corner of my monitor, I feel my heart sink a little deeper.
My ears tingle and pop, I wonder if its my sanity or simply my intellect leaking out.
Normally, I'm fairly laid back, pretty chilled, but this place just raises my blood pressure.
Ok here goes, 10 o'clock, "good morning, you are speaking to James, how may I help?"
Pausing for the response, I'm already gone, auto-pilot has taken over.
Questions and demands bat between us like a ball.
Relief as the dead tone rings in my ear, although it lasts milliseconds before being replaced by the beep of an incoming call.
Sincerity, as false and sugary as a McDonald's donut, scrapes my throat as it's forced out.
Tortuously I take call after excruciating call, feeling like a mother of a newborn on maternity leave. I want to stand up and scream "G*ddamn it. I need an intelligent conversation!"
Uninterestedly the hours tick by. My ears leaking my brains.
Various faces around me all display the same tell tale, defeated smiles.
Wondering how the ones that are genuinely smiling do it, perplexes me, I must ask.
Xoanon and other perverse objet d’art clutter desks.
Youth turns into old age seamlessly.
Zapping energy and intelligence in equal measure.