Nursing

Every time I sit down to type these days, I invariably end up writing about my sadness and pain. . . but today I am determined to share something other than depression!  In truth, there are some things going on that bring me full joy in spite of all the heartache.  The biggest joy is the prospect of becoming a nurse! I have now enrolled in prerequisites at Front Range for the fall; plus I will take a nurse aide course.  In the spring, I'll get a job as a CNA while I apply to Regis and CU.

Some friends and family have expressed concern about this dramatic move so soon after losing Evie.  I am grateful for those who challenge me to think deeply about it.  Here are some questions posed to me and some thoughts I have in response:

Aren't your emotions too raw to make such a life-changing decision as switching careers?
Yes and no.  I realize that this goal of nursing might be a way of filling the void in my heart.  I also realize that I am lost and unsure of my identity.  I am sometimes unstable, prone to tears at random times, and distracted.  These emotions are the exact reason I set this goal for myself!  One thing I know about me is that I thrive on intellectual challenge and I love learning something new.  I don't do well sitting at home and contemplating myself and my emotions. . . I want to get out and do something.  I want to reinvent myself.

You absolutely love teaching right?  Why leave that behind?
What I love most about teaching is serving disadvantaged kids- boosting them toward success and valuing them as individuals.  I view nursing in a similar light.  I still have much to learn about the career options out there once I graduate, but I know I will find something that fulfills me to the core.  I will have a chance to value & help disadvantaged individuals.  Perhaps I can even go into public health- something like planned parenthood or another clinic that serves people who might otherwise not have access to healthcare.  After spending so much time with the doctors and nurses in the NICU, I am enthralled by the human body, and I can't wait to learn more.  I love the idea of providing physical and emotional care.

What about having another baby?
It hasn't been long since Evie died, but I would be lying if I said I didn't desperately want a baby again.  It is a tangled bundle of desires: Do I want a baby or do I want my Evie?  Are we ready for all the apprehension of being pregnant again?  Is my "biological clock" ticking?  What if the pregnancy goes badly again?  What if we don't even get pregnant?  . . . If I had to pick between having a baby and going back to school, I would pick having a baby.  Definitely.  But the anxiety surrounding getting pregnant threatens to overtake me!  So I am going to do this nursing thing, and maybe we'll get pregnant too.  If that happens, we'll reassess.

As I type all this out, I am sitting here feeling flooded with love for Kabir, who stands beside me through my crazy impulsiveness and loves me and holds me up no matter what.  This man is a gem.

Dichotomy

Yesterday I was sitting in a cafe watching a mommy cradle her tiny baby.  She was smiling and holding him close, rocking him gently.  I felt my usual sadness and longing.  I could not look away.

Then I heard a loud sound, a guttural cry.  I looked to the very next table and saw two parents with their older child.  She had a helmet on, and she was nonverbal- crying out and banging her hand on the table. She rocked from side to side and her mommy was rubbing her back.  It's hard to explain the way I felt after noticing this other child.  Was it relief that I am not faced with that challenge? Yikes.  Then it was guilt.  As I sat and reflected, I became interested that I was faced with those two pictures of life back to back.  My grief moved and shifted inside me a little bit.

Then Valerie broke my meditation.  "I'm all done with my chocolate milk!"
"Ok pumpkin," I said, returning to the life at hand.  We stood up and left the cafe.

Tricky Things

Seedlings
It was so heart-wrenching to watch my garden sprout and grow while my baby didn't have that chance.  Why do they get to start small and make wonderful progress day by day?  How is that fair?  I pour my love into those veggies, but it hurts.

Pregnant Women and My Empty Body
I cannot look away from all the glowing and beautiful pregnant women I spot out and about. . .  My longing is so very deep. Meanwhile at home I look at my tiny, empty breasts and my still-poochy abdomen in the mirror and feel disgusted by the failure that is my body.

Certain Places
The mall, the library, and the park are places with a very high concentration of newborns.  I notice them and mostly look away.  Sometimes I feel like I don't belong in those places and shouldn't even go.  I wonder where I might belong now?  I tried going to visit the NICU, since that was practically my home for so long.  People were very happy to see me and hugged me, but I felt physically sick.  I could barely even look at them. I wanted to go to Evie's room so badly, just to make sure she was really gone, but there was another baby in there, and I decided it would be weird to ask.

Sometimes I just cannot escape feeling really dark and awful.  It helps to close my eyes and fantasize about the woods or a meadow or a rocky shore.  If I am feeling really, really bad, I imagine the wind howling and pushing on me, my hair whipping and my arms spread wide.  Or I imagine salty waves crashing on me and knocking me under the sea, where I tumble on the sandy bottom.