I think I mentioned here before that I would be losing my job. I learned in April that the work that I do (along with 15 or 20 co-workers), would be outsourced to a different newspaper sometime next year. Or the work might stay here, but we would all be laid off and have to re-apply. I am lucky enough to work part-time, and I knew that only full-time positions would be left.

I felt OK about losing my job though because we were getting ready for Genevieve’s arrival. I planned to stay home with her for a few months and then begin the job search when I felt ready. We know how that turned out. I couldn’t really see any way to justify my staying home when I still had a job waiting for me, so I returned to work. But I have lost interest. I think the problem is partly all of the cost-cutting going on in the news world and partly that my priorities are different.

Sunday will be my last day at work. What next?

I plan to stay home with Eleanor for a couple of months, soaking up all of her 2-year-old-ness while I can. Part of me wants to stay home with her until she starts kindergarten. She is becoming increasingly social though, and I know that she gets bored being home with me so much. Soon there will be preschool and other activities taking her out into the world, and I will have less and less to do at home.

So I plan to return to school. To be a nurse. I think.

I have always regretted that I didn’t become a doctor. If I could go back to age 18 with the knowledge I have now, I think that’s what I would do. But I’m not 18, and I have a family that I want to spend time with, so I’m choosing this path.

Most people want to get out of the hospital as quickly as they can. But every time I’m in the hospital, I think about how I wish I worked there. (Those people wear scrubs to work every day!) And when I try to make sense of Genevieve’s death, which of course will never truly make sense, I always come back to nursing. I can help other people going through a crisis because I know now. I know.

I am scared at the many years of school ahead of me, but school won’t be nearly as scary as what I’ve already been through. And I want Eleanor to see that she can always start again, that we have our entire lives to grow.

2 thoughts on “Change

  1. Congratulations on starting a new career path. It is always scary to do and I think it is wonderful that you are going back to something that you have always wanted to do. I wanted to respond to a comment you made on my blog and wanted to make sure you saw it so I hope you don’t mind me highjacking this post (although it is relevant).

    What I loathe about medicine is not something you will have to deal with very much as a nurse. I tend to obsess and worry and fret about my patients and what I diagnosed them/prescribed to them/treated them with until it makes me crazy. I feel so responsible for my patients’ health even when they themselves have little regard for their own. I can never just leave work behind, it follows me home both figuratively and literally (with phone calls and follow ups and results and…). If I were to rewind time and choose another aspect of medicine to work in it would be nursing. I’m a mid-level provider, by the way (a PA, kind of like a nurse practitioner).

    I think experiencing the loss of Genevieve will only make you better at being a nurse. You will have compassion for your patients that most other people will not simply because you know what tragedy really is. I know for myself that my son’s death made me a better provider, even if I don’t like being one.

    Good luck on your new endeavor.

  2. I’m so sorry to read about the loss of Genevieve (I love both your girls’ names, by the way), and I just wanted to say that I think anyone who has experienced a loss like this would provide a huge service working in healthcare. Grief is such an individual experience, but it’s also really universal, and I know that compassion may be a hard-won trait, but it’s certainly an enormous asset for a nurse. Plus I love that you’re showing Eleanor that life isn’t in the planning, but in the living.

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