Facing Change and Doing Something

“The best thing you can do is the right thing; the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing; the worst thing you can do is nothing.”  ~Theodore Roosevelt

Well, that might be fine and dandy for Teddy, but sometimes doing something is absolutely petrifying and doing nothing brings a calm and comfort with it that allows us to prepare, analyze, and occasionally reconsider our plans…at least for a little while.

For the past few months, I’ve resisted change. In fact, if I came face to face with Change in a dark alley, I’d probably run away peeing my pants. The idea of change, actively searching for it, when our lives seemd to finally be sturdy and stable, scared the hell out of me.  I realized I was no longer happy in my current job. No, that’s not exactly true. I was happy, but I wasn’t completely satisifed.  I was working two part-time jobs in fields of medicine that I was passionate about, had amazing co-workers and phenomenal benefits. On the surface, I had the dream career. But underneath it all, it was killing me. Each day as I loaded little jammied bodies into the car or kissed sleepy eyes good-bye as I walked out the door, my heart broke knowing that I would only have two hours with them in the evening, which would be spent making dinner, cleaning the house, and a quick cuddle and bedtime story before saying good-night. I had hoped to have a balanced life with equal parts work and family, but for the last few months I realized, I had a little too much Yin and not enough Yang. And Yang, well… let’s face it, that’s what it’s all about. I desperately wanted to swing the work/motherhood pendulum in the other direction, work a little less, stay home a little more, but fear paralyzed me. I was terrified I would make the wrong decision, and rather than focusing on what could happen if I made the right choice, I let the fear of making the wrong choice immobilize me.

I stayed with the familiar and the well-known. I followed the ebb and flow and pretended like it didn’t affect me as greatly as it actually did. I told myself I would let some of the housework fall to the wayside in order to spend more time with my girls, I would prepare meals a week in advance to eliminate time wasted cooking in the evening, and I would repeatedly give myself the “you-are-doing-what-is-best-for-your-family” pep talk. But the truth was, after Marty went back to work, it became harder and harder to convince myself that this situation was working well for our family. I wanted to be home more with my girls, but I also needed to be home more.  Marty’s schedule has gotten more hectic and unpredictable than ever before and as a result, the children/household responsibilities slowly began to pile onto my shoulders… a weight that became difficult to maintain while managing two part-time jobs. Still, the fear of the unknown made me weary.

“What if Marty is laid off again?”
“Am I crazy to walk away from a job with such great benefits?”
“What if I don’t find a job I like as much as this one?”
“Do I really want to start over at a new office with new staff, new patients, new physicians?”

The “what-if’s” plagued me and nearly drove me out of my mind. Naturally, I did what any fear-of-change-girl would do.

Nothing.

At least at first.

I didn’t actively search for new positions and I didn’t tell anyone I was considering leaving.

But fate (or pure dumb luck) stepped in.  Apparently the universe had decided that this girl wouldn’t do anything on her own and needed a little push heave-ho in the right direction. While helping my best friend search for employment opportunities, I stumbled across an advertisement of a family practice office seeking a part-time or full-time physician assistant. I scanned the posting, thought to myself, “Uh huh, suuuure. That sounds too good to be true,” but electronically submitted my resume anyway. To be honest, I didn’t give the job a second thought until two months later when I received a voice mail asking if I would be interested in coming for an interview. I agreed and planned on another interview in which I walked in, they took one look at me and thought, “Is she even old enough to be a PA?”

As I threw my phone into my purse and scrambled to find an unwrinkled copy of my resume, Marty asked “So, are you nervous?”

I think I surprised us both when I said, “nope. Not in the slightest.”  But then again, I had no reason to be nervous. I didn’t need this job, nor had I really planned on looking for a new position, so why be nervous?

That was until I walked into the office and realized I was going to be interviewed by the office manager, the current part-time nurse practitioner, and three physicians.

Hello intimidation. Welcome back nervousness.

I figetted with my skirt, pretended to skim through my portfolio as my ‘interview committee’ organized themselves and made small talk. I smiled my best I’m-totally-comfortable-and-confident-ask-me-anything smile and prepared to be quizzed on pulmonary hypertension, renal tubular acidosis, or pheochromocytoma, diseases that had completely been deleted from my vocabulary since my PA school days.

“Well, I guess I should start off my saying that we are not professional interviewers, as will soon be apparent by our questions and laid-back demeanor.”

I hope no one noticed, but I’m pretty sure I let out a rather loud sigh of relief.

Over the next 90 minutes, we casually discussed patient demographics, my confidence in managing certain diseases, preventative medicine, and their expectations for this position. I was comfortable and actually enjoying the interview, but a small piece of information continued to nag me throughout the process. Actually, two pieces of information.

Lily and Charley.

I wanted to tell them I was a mother. That at the end of the day, my most important job is to be there for my girls. I wanted to tell them that I planned on having more children, that a maternity leave will likely occur in the future. That I am far from a work-aholic and once my work day is done, it’s done and family time takes over.

But I knew better.

As a woman in the work force, announcing you are a mother, is the kiss of death. In fact, you might as well wear a shirt into the interview that declares, “no matter what, this job will always come second in my life” while carrying a sign that says ‘be prepared for my-kid-has-the-stomach-flu-I-won’t-be-in-today phone calls and I-can’t-work-late-my-kid-has-a-soccer-game excuses’.  Like I said, kiss of death.

Legally, they couldn’t directly ask me if I had children, but I also knew that I didn’t want to accept a position if I hid the fact that I had children waiting at home for their mommy.  As I answered their questions and politely made small talk, I debated in my head whether or not to mention my little girls.

As the interview drew to a close I was asked “You mentioned your flexibility regarding the schedule, but are there any prior commitments that may alter this flexibility?”

Here it was, the moment in which all my forced confidence, pleasant smiles, and well executed answers would be erased by my motherhood status.

“Actually, my daughter is starting pre-school in the fall and I need to be the one to drop her off and pick her up. I hope this won’t be a problem.”

Silence.

The three physicians shared glances as I grimaced and prepared for the worst.

“Problem? Not at all. We are all very family oriented. In fact, I have to leave this interview early so I can make it to my daughter’s baseball game tonight, Dr. B already took off a week in September to ease her daughter into kindergarten, and Dr. S is planning on taking a paternity leave this fall when the adoption is finalized. We can easily change your work schedule to fit with your family needs, that will not be a problem.”

I left that interview feeling like I had found my niche. Could it really be that perfect? Could Change really be exciting and not terrifying?

A week later I was offered the position. Once again, I hemmed and hawed as I analyzed (and over-analyzed) every possible scenario based on if I took the job or if I didn’t take it.  I made a pros and cons list, I discussed the possibilities with my friends and my husband until even I was annoyed with myself. Not so secretly, I wished someone could make the decision for me. Give me a crystal ball and guarantee me that my decision was the right one. But the fact was, I knew in my heart that accepting the position was the correct choice, regardless of the fear that accompanied it. I owed it to myself and to my children to at least try.  Anything else that came with it… well, we will just have to figure that out as it comes. We’ve learned that we can overcome the struggles that life throws at us and the fear of facing those struggles isn’t worth holding back and not fighting for what we truly want and deserve.

It may have taken me several weeks to do so, but I finally realized that if nothing changes, everything stays the same. And staying the same, wasn’t acceptable to me or to my family. And so, our family faces another series of life changes that will likely test our patience and our sanity. But at the end of the day, I think we’ve made the right decision and unlike some of the other changes that have turned our lives upside down in the past two years, I am excited to see where this new journey takes us.

Any decisions you have dreaded making?