Late Friday night.
Crap Dad picks himself of settee and goes into the dinning room to say goodnight to Grumpy Mum, who is at the computer. As he wanders in he sees her sitting there with her head in her hands.
“Are you all right love?”
Big heaves of the shoulders and anguished sobs.
“I feel so upset and powerless, so angry and frustrated. I just want to go on adoption leave and still have a job. I don’t want to be unemployed with two small children. How on earth will we manage?”
“I know my love. It’s hard, I know. We’ll be all right, whatever the outcome. Don’t let the bastards get you down. It’s late… lets go to bed. It’ll look different in the morning.”
Early Saturday morning
No, it doesn’t.
Mostly Functional 
I’m sorry. I also don’t know whether I’ll still have a job to come back to after maternity leave. I can imagine that it’s all just overwhelming for you all… please give GM my love…
(And I still think this blog has the makings of a novel good enough to solve all your financial concerns, too…)