Lessons Learned --- Over and over again

Have you ever heard Oprah say (I'm paraphrasing here) that the universe will present you with the same message over and over again until you learn the lesson you're supposed to learn? First a drop of rain will fall on your head. If you don't get it, it will start to pour. Then comes hail, lightning, thunder, and then maybe a tsunami if thats what it takes for you to 'get it'. I occasionally like to wait for the tsunami to arrive before I grab my inflatable life raft and head for higher ground.

An example: my first job was the cesspool of first jobs. Terrible office space, an annoying co-worker, in a cold, gray pit of a city. I wanted out of this job as soon as possible after filling my mandatory one-year-on-my-resume sentence. After months of looking, I received a lead through a family friend for a job at a small company in a city nearby. At my interview my 'new boss' showed me the office that would be mine, gave me a tour of the place, and even asked me to come give a lecture, which I did. This job was mine. She introduced me to everyone as her new colleague. In my mind I had my office set up perfectly. I saw the development of my program, the cool new friends I would make, the rad apartment I would find, and the perfect life I would lead. I was there. Unfortunately, my contract wasn't.

Six months later, the contract still hadn't come through. And then the unthinkable happened ... my new boss got a job elsewhere. The gig was up. My perfect job, perfect office, and perfect life evaporated into thin air. I was devastated. This was simply the best job anywhere, anytime, and anything else would be a very sloppy second.

Six months later, I applied for a much better job, in a much better institution in a much cooler city. I went for an interview and I loved them and they loved me. I could picture my cool new .... well, you get the idea. Three months later another applicant with far greater experience joined the pool, and they threw my resume out the window. I was devastated.

Long story short, a new gig eventually appeared. I actually got this job and it ended up being far and away a better opportunity than Plan A or B. Lesson learned: sometimes when the dream job, guy, house (insert noun here) falls through, there is actually something better waiting for you behind Door #3. Step away from the ledge, take a deep breath and wait for life to unfold.

It is this message I apparently need in tsunami form.

Maternal Instinct

Are some girls born with the instinct to become mothers themselves someday? I think the answer is yes. And I also think that plenty of women have no particularly strong drive to become mothers, but then have children, figure it out, and love their children as much as anyone else.

I've been thinking a lot about motherhood over the past few years. Three years ago I broke off a relationship with a guy I loved because I could no longer make myself pretend that this marriage would have a chance in hell of working out. I loved the guy, I loved what he said he wanted in life and who he wanted to be, but I also knew that it was extremely unlikely that he would ever get there. My body admitted this before I did --- I couldn't sleep, eat, or function. But even after I knew it couldn't work, I clung to hope because I felt that he was my last shot at marriage and a baby, in that order. I was 36.

The break-up was devastating to everyone involved. Six months, 2 guys, and 5 bad dates later, I took a long, hard look at the facts and realized I needed to reverse my priority list and work on motherhood first. Speed dating and a mad rush down the aisle would get me into very deep trouble, very quickly. And then the fertility journey began.

Early last spring I was pondering the fertility journey and maternal instinct as I was out for my first kayak ride of the season. I was thinking about my journey thus far: going it alone, telling my parents for the first time, abandoning Plan A. Dozens of invasive procedures, surgeries and injections, hundreds of hours in research, travel and appointments, thousands of dollars in drugs and medical expenses. Was it all worthwhile? Why was I doing this to myself????

It was still cold and no one was on the water as I paddled by a small island of rocks. Without warning a seagull flew toward my head, squalking loudly and threatening to dive bomb. Startled by the interruption, I paddled around the island and she followed me --- becoming more menacing, and circling my head. What was her problem?

And then I saw 5 fuzzy gray chicks sitting on the rock --- this seagull was a mom. This is why she is harassing a kayaker. This is why I continue my journey.

Feminist in a Wedding Gown?

I consider myself a feminist of sorts --- not the "bra-burning, 'spell women with a y', march on Washington" type. More the "women can do anything, everything, and do it just as well as men" type.

I come from a long line of strong women. My maternal great grandmother was a teacher who raised two children on her own when she was widowed at a young age. My grandmother was an attorney when many of her peers didn't graduate from high school, and my mother is a strong-minded physician. My parents spoke about 'when' and not 'if' I would go to college, go to graduate school and have my own career. My grandmother told me to get married after I'd done everything else first.

And so I forged forward into the world knowing that I could do anything I wanted to do, and would do it well. And yet, I still always pictured myself in a white gown on my wedding day, next to a great husband. Sure, I could do the whole career gig on my own, but the next 2/3 of my life would be built with my husband by my side. And while I checked 'college, graduate school, first job, second job, buying a home' neatly off my list, written there in mental red ink was still 'finding a husband'.

I've dated far and wide --- and had a close call three years ago --- but still no husband.

It was only recently when my mother was visiting and questioned a rusted muffin tin in my cupboard that the reality hit me --- I've kept my hand-me-down rusted out muffin tins because I had always planned to register for new ones when I got married. Thump. (That was Gloria Steinem hitting the floor) Can you believe it? Here I am a successful, professional woman with plenty of money who is still waiting to register for real kitchen accessories instead of making it happen right here, right now. In many ways it is a metaphor for the next part of my life --- babies, a dream home, true happiness --- all of those things have been on my mental wedding registry, stored away for the day I find Mr. Right. What a bunch of B.S. The time to realize my dreams is now. Mr. Right, if you're out there, come pick me up at the next stop, because I'm hopping on this train.

The Art of Plan B

I've discovered the secret to a happy life.

Its not finding happiness when everything is going smoothly and as planned --- you know, something like:  high school, first love, college, second love, grad school, first job, great guy, dream job, surprise engagement, story book wedding, first house, pregnant right away, healthy baby, repeat.  Good health, financial stability, happy parents, lots of friends, BMI <25, etc.

But the true question is:  what happens when life heads a bit off course?  or maybe more than a bit off course?  How do you handle Plan B?  The answer determines whether you can find happiness.  Because, let's face it, Plan B is where most of us reside.