Skipped a Work Shower

Going back to teaching, I was surprised to not encounter anything pregnancy-related first semester. Schools always seem to be full of pregnant staff members and pregnant parents. But the majority of my co-workers are very young and not yet thinking about raising children at all.

I'm not going to lie: it has been refreshing. No questions, no comments, no stories dominating our thirty minute respite period, a.k.a. our lunch time. ;)

However, I came back to work from winter break to read a rather presumptive email. The director of my district's department emailed everyone informing us of a baby shower she was throwing for someone who works for the district. The director told us when it would be, where it would be, and what we all could bring (a small gift or $10 to contribute, she was bringing cake and snacks). The way she wrote it, attendance sounded mandatory. What the hell?? I do not go to baby showers. (Well, unless I'm throwing the shower haha.) I stressed about this email, what to do, and how to respond until I saw my department chair.

Thankfully, my department chair shot the idea down. I asked him about it and he immediately said, "Oh, I am not going to that." I said, "Really? What did you write back?" He said, "I didn't write anything. I'm just not going."

So I followed his lead. I didn't write back. I didn't go. Nothing was ever said and life went on.

I think I often feel like everything needs a reply. I learned an important lesson with this experience. I don't have to respond to everything. I can just let some things go.

The Body Remembers

I fell apart on Sunday. I woke up feeling off and was soon unexplainably crying.

I felt hollow, defeated, and just so sad.

So I just sat with my feelings. Well, I sat with them as they poured out of my tear ducts. And came out with my shallow breaths. And I realized that my body was remembering a bad anniversary.

It's been five years since my first IVF did not result in pregnancy.

Five years since I got that phone call.
Five years since I hung up the phone,
collapsed on the floor,
and
howled from a place deep inside me,
feeling the worst pain and trauma
that could only be caused by
the most devastating loss of my life.


And this past Sunday I felt a fraction of that pain and sadness again. To say the least, it sucked.

So, Sunday sucked. I cried. I felt sad. I cried some more. Pretty hard.

Then I got out of the house and followed through with some plans I'd been looking forward to and I was really glad I did. It wasn't a very good day, but I did the best I could with it. Then it passed.

And I'm still left with a bit of an "exhaustion hangover" but that's fine.

It's all a part of the grief and recovery process.

5 Years Ago & Now

January 1, 2015       I went to the hospital for my first embryo transfer after my first IVF cycle.
January 1, 2020       I went to the hospital for my scheduled shift for my new job/career.

I would have never considered a career in healthcare had I not been through the most invasive of procedures with some of the most devastating results. I hate hospitals. I can be squeamish and anxious in medical settings. While in school, I was nervous about the clinical rotations because I didn't know if I'd be able to handle all of the medical stuff.

But I was fine. Because it's my patients' pain and anxiety that call to me. I tell them it's fine to cry or complain and that I'm sorry for the interruption this injury or illness has caused in their life.

*****

Five years ago I hadn't even considered a second career. I was going to be a stay at home mom.
Now I'm working two careers. Obviously, I'm not a stay at home mom. Also, I'm no longer married.

*****

On Friday I left the hospital after another shift. I had a good day. I still have a lot to learn, but I know I am helping my patients. I walked to my car. I stopped, took a deep breath, and looked around. It was so beautiful where I was. In all of my loss and devastation, I am still determined and grateful.