Help us get our little home

Our apartments have grown increasingly intolerable, threatening residents with hefty fines and evictions. I got an unenforceable, but still cruel eviction notice for no actual, material reason. We decided we're done.

We started our homebuying process. Once pre-approved for a loan, we put in our 60-day notice. We have until July 3 to move out.

Things were going well. We shopped, met a nice realtor, made an offer, accepted a counteroffer, paid for and completed an inspection. I drove my son through the neighborhood to see our new house.

Today my heart shattered.

The lender called to ask for some documents, including my pay stubs.

I don't have paystubs. I resigned in February. I was truthful about this on the loan application. He just missed it.

It was an honest mistake, and it's costing us a home.

What are our options?

-I could get a full time job, any job, even just for the period between now and close of escrow; I would have to start in less than a week

-Zach could get a $3.60 raise (unlikely)

-We could come up with a total down payment of 56k. We have 10k.

I'm going to be really, really honest:

I quit for a goddamn reason.

I get one (1) life.

This life has given me a rough diagnosis that makes it nearly impossible to keep a 40hr/week job. And honestly? Since I'm being honest? Not long ago, women weren't even expected to work outside the home. Yet I feel like a fucking pariah because I chose to prioritize my health, my job as a mother, and the (HARD) work of homemaking over killing myself for a paycheck. Okay? I'm not exaggerating. I get one (1) life. I can be there to pick my son up from school, or get home at 7-8pm to find him parked in front of the TV. I can eat healthy homecooked meals, or waste money on takeout. I can take care of myself, or I can end up (again) in the hospital as my kidneys and/or GI tract and/or damaged brain revolt. I can be a person, or I can be a thing.

I am not a thing.

The expectation that I (or anybody) ought to be one in order to live in a house is stupid and cruel and I'm done with it.

We are not things.

Recently a woman raised 800k to buy a house because she called a little kid the n-word, so why should I feel any shame asking for 46k?

I'm a good person. I deserve a break. I need time to generate income from my labors, and I don't have time.

It is certainly possible I could get a job within a week. I'm trying, just in case. I love this house. It's perfect and humble and everything we need. Of course I'm going to do everything I can.

I will not drown in shame. I did nothing wrong. We had our pre-qual letter. There was no reason to believe we'd end up with no where to go.

I just wish life was just an eensy, weensy, teensy bit fair. Since it's not, I wish for a miracle. I cast a magic spell: I will receive this money and we will close on this house. Make it so.