It's been ten years since my last failed treatment and I still feel like I'm in uncharted waters.
I'm even going to reach out to an area private school that has an opening for a part-time specialist. I like kids and they like me. Plus, I have decades of experience working with thousands of kids ages 5 and up. And honestly, I need to make more and I'm interested in what they pay.
It's hard to quit what you know.
But it's not good for me. I can admit that now.
Infertility really impacted me and my life.
Other people's parenting bugs the crap out of me. If I could manage a classroom full of 20 kids that weren't mine (where a minimum of 5 at all times were on behavior plans), why can't parents manage the one child that is theirs? Yes, I know about attachment theory and all of the other reasons why children will act differently with their parents compared to other adults. But still...
In my moments of frustration in the past, I would console myself with the fact that I would get my own opportunity to parent. That I would get to make my own decisions and make my own mistakes. That I would get to feel my own unconditional love and excitement and frustration and overwhelm as a parent. That my day would come.
It never did.
And as I've dealt with other people's parenting since ending all efforts to try and get pregnant, I don't get to give myself that same consolation. I know I will never get my chance.
It's really fucking hard.
And it really, deeply affects me.
And I can only share this honestly a full year and a half after my last stint working in outpatient pediatrics. Between the horrendous management and the rude and judgmental parents, working with kids in the fall of 2023 was very damaging for me.
(Maybe if there had been any respect from my bosses or the children's parents at the time it would have been different. But I got more respect from my bosses and the parents as a first year teacher at age 23 than I did at that last job as an educated and experienced 44-year-old. It was SO weird.)
I didn't know what I was going through at the time, but the damage spiraled. I felt awful on the inside and I was very unhappy. I was judging myself and feeling very angry. I carried all of my frustrations around with me at all times. I took it out on my boyfriend and his young adult son that was living with us at the time. I have since apologized, but it was a very terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time.
And I don't like to admit ANY of that.
I LOVE kids. I love working with kids. I love parents. I love supporting parents.
But the truth is, I don't like a lot of people's parenting. I don't like permissive parenting, and I don't like authoritarian parenting. And I hate the way that screen use is changing childhood.
And I don't have kids. So I don't have to fight these battles.
One of the reasons why I went into teaching in the first place was to start collecting stuff for my kids. After over ten years of collecting, I had thousands of kids' books, games, toys, and projects. I was an elementary school waiting to happen haha. Then, after that last job in outpatient pediatrics ended, I re-homed all of my materials. Every single thing. I kept nothing.
Now I feel drawn to working with older and elderly adults. I can empathize with bodies not functioning as expected. I want to learn about the other end of the spectrum of life. We are all aging, and it's practical information to know. I also realized: we grew up the same. Only generations older than me had pencil, paper, and the telephone on the wall in the kitchen.
So that's where I'm at with that. Working with kids. It's what I know and in a way I love it, but it's also not that good for me. It's not where I want to grow, not what I want to learn more about. I haven't completely ruled out ever doing it again, but I'm extremely hesitant to get into another pediatric situation.
Acknowledgment and acceptance without judgment.
It's not my fault infertility changed everything.
I'm just navigating this life I have.
Picture found on a blog post about navigating a boat
Dear Phoenix,
ReplyDeleteThere is so much in this post that I don't know where to start.
First of all, let me say that I empathize with wanting to be able to be "healed" in a way that you could still work with kids full time. It must have been so hard to go through that experience in pediatrics in 2023!
I also wanted to be "healed" in a way that would let me be the perfect fun auntie or godmother. Well, that never happened. I have become quite a distant aunt and godmother. I am lucky to have two girls who love me as their godmother all the same, but I also know I am a lot less "natural" in this role than a woman with kids would probably be. But it is the way it is. I can accept it. And my job was not affected directly by infertility, which I am grateful for.
It must be so hard to have to change careers because of infertility. I do know that you like the life you have built for yourself now, and I am happy about that. At the same time it is also important to acknowledge what was lost.
I already told you, but I will again, because I hope it will make you feel less alone. A friend of mine who could not have kids used to be a midwife. She also changed careers and went to work with the elderly. She could do so easily because she was trained as a nurse first. But it was a change nonetheless!
You are navigating this (unforeseen) life to the best of your ability. And that is really all anyone can do.
Sending hugs!
Whoops. I wrote a response days ago, and forgot to hit publish. Here it is:
ReplyDeleteSounds like it isn't the kids who are the problem, but the parents and bosses. Still, you can't work with kids without them. I'm so glad you recognised what works better for you, and so sorry you had to learn that lesson.
An aunt once explained why she liked working with the elderly over children (she had children my age too), and I completely understand it.
(Eek, I'm the generation with the pen and paper and telephone on the wall - though in my case it was on the table in the living room, near the kitchen door.)