How It Really Feels to Be That Person With $30K in Debt, Jobless, and Pregnant

Let me tell you a story that feels both impossible to share and impossible to keep to myself.

It’s about money — or rather, the lack of it.

It’s about how a single year can throw you into financial free fall. And, most painfully, it’s about how you can feel like you’re doing everything “right” only to realize the world has other plans.

Here’s the truth: my credit card balance is over $30,000.

Let that number sit with you for a moment.

It’s a number that keeps me up at night. It’s a number that shouldn’t exist, but here we are.

This debt didn’t happen overnight.

It crept up like a shadow since April 2024, when I lost my job — a job I loved and depended on. My husband (then fiancé) and I were in the thick of wedding planning when it happened. We had locked in September 2024 for our big day, and though our wedding wasn’t some Pinterest-worthy extravaganza, it was still a wedding, and weddings come with bills.

Bills that, at the time, we thought we could handle.

Then life happened.

Just days before our wedding, we found out I was pregnant. Not just pregnant — but pregnant without IVF, a miracle after years of heartbreak and fertility struggles.

But we couldn’t even celebrate because the joy was tangled in fear.

Fear of money.

Fear of losing this pregnancy like the ones before it.

Fear that the life we were about to bring into the world deserved better than the financial mess we were drowning in.

Unemployment was a lifeline — barely.

It covered just enough to keep us afloat, scraping by with groceries, gas, and the minimums on our debt. But that ran out. And with it went any sense of stability we had left.

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you about living paycheck to paycheck: it’s not just stressful — it’s paralyzing.

Every swipe of the card becomes a moral dilemma.

Every unexpected expense is a gut punch.

And when you’re staring down $30,000 in credit card debt, you don’t feel like a person anymore.

You feel like a statistic.

We made the decision that I wouldn’t look for a new job right now. We’re in our second trimester — the furthest we’ve ever made it in a pregnancy — and we aren’t willing to risk losing this miracle.

That choice has meant I’ve had to get creative. I’ve turned to writing, pouring my heart into these posts to not only vent but to bring in some much-needed income. I’ve started selling anything and everything in our apartment that isn’t nailed down.

But it’s not enough.

This is where I’m brutally honest: we need help.

If you’ve been reading this, if you’ve connected with my story, if you’ve ever found value in my words — please share this, Venmo me $1, or just send a kind word.

If 1,000 people donated $1, it would cover this month’s minimum payment.

Donate here (Venmo)

It feels humiliating to even ask, but pride doesn’t pay bills.

This debt is more than a balance.

It’s a reflection of what so many of us are going through. The razor-thin line between surviving and drowning. It’s what happens when you lose a job, try to hold onto love, and keep faith in a future you’re terrified won’t come true.

So here I am, telling you my story. Not just to beg for help (although, let’s be real, that’s part of it) but to let you know you’re not alone if you’re struggling too.

Because when everything feels impossible, sometimes the only thing left to do is ask for a miracle.

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Hi, I’m Fiona, a writer going through an unexpected chapter in life.

I lost my job in April 2024, and my husband and I have been getting by on his small medical residency income. After stepping away from IVF, we were surprised and overjoyed to find ourselves pregnant, but it’s added financial stress as we prepare for this new journey.

Writing is my way of contributing to our family while covering essentials like groceries, bills and maybe items for our 🌈 miracle baby.

If you’d like to support us, your kindness would mean the world — every little bit helps. $1, $2…Anything is appreciated. Donate here (Venmo).

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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