Baby fever.
Admittedly, I have had the fever for a while and this post comes out something like a confession. I know that babies (and God) laugh at our human-y life plans, but that does not stop us from making them. My husband and I had a plan. It was create baby two in the spring/summer of 2014. "But wait, Ms. Fartsonparade", you may be asking yourself, "are you up the spout now?"
"No", is the answer to that question.
I have a handful of dreams and aspirations in my life. Chiefly among them, are to grow our family and to grow in my education/knowledge. And wouldn't you know it-the two are pitted against each other.
The plan to expand our brood in spring of 2014, was made so our kids would be nicely spaced apart, I would get a year off from using my body to feed or house another human, and it is such a freaking miracle to carry a child and deliver them into the world and we felt ready to do that again.
In the same month that it was okay to let this baby become a possibility, I got an offer. The most generous and needed offer I have ever been given-a chance to get a FREE master's degree from a leading university that would help me specifically with teaching urban students. (If you are wondering why I need help with this, see Reflections on My First Year of Teaching in an Urban School)
I panicked. Here were two things I had laid awake at night dreaming about. Hoping for. And both possibilities were open to me, and I had no idea what to do.
Initially, I decided to decline the offer to keep with our family plan, citing that family is more important than work, but decided I should complete the application process anyway, thinking that if my application was not chosen, then I wouldn't really have to make a decision.
In order to apply for the program, I needed take the GRE. I spent 30-90 minutes each night studying and taking practice tests. Stretching my brain and learning something new, felt refreshing and welcome. And when I finally took the exam and passed, the delight I felt should have indicated my true desire.
But still I felt torn and confused.
Then I talked to my husband, for real. We had talked about all of it a million times before, but it felt unresolved, so I started to hash it all out again. What I thought would be a long and painful process turned out to be a brief and cherished moment of our marriage. Tearfully and honestly, I told him I wanted to pursue the program. To invest in myself, but I admitted that I felt guilty for doing this for me and sad about missing out on bringing a new baby home in the next year-ish. But what he said next mended my heart and gives me motivation to start this program in two weeks. He said, "We are not losing a baby now. Whatever baby is born later? That one will be ours, and that will be the baby we love."
Cheers, blogosphere. This mama is starting graduate school.
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