"Questioning things when you're happy is like taking a shit after a shower."
-- Kelly Oxford, via tweet
So two pretty big things happened last week.
1) I got the promotion! (What?!)
2) We did our third IUI.
Here's how both things went down.
On Friday, I was expecting to find out about the promotion, and I really was SO SURE I didn't get it. All the signs pointed to a big, fat: Let it go; it's not happening. I had updated my résumé; I had created a website displaying all my writing clips; I had drafted a cover letter and made an Excel spreadsheet of jobs I intended to apply for over the weekend.
At 3:45, my new boss called me into his office. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I am ready to be told I did not get the position. I am ready to just know for sure. I am not going to cry; I'm going to take it like a champ.
I closed the door to his office, sat down and forced a calm, bright look onto my face.
"How are you?" he asked me.
"I'm good," I said. I really was. It was OK; it was time for a new life chapter.
"Well, I wanted to tell you that I'd like to offer you the position of executive editor," he said.
And I lost it. I gasped, I clapped my hands over my face, and I cried like a baby. I was shaking all over; I couldn't think or speak. I was SHOCKED!
When I pulled myself together a little bit, I luckily remembered to thank him, and I told him I didn't think he would be disappointed. After more than two months of buildup, uncertainty, competition, wins, losses, frustration, meltdowns, over-analyzing, strategy sessions and crazy-hard work, the whole conversation lasted less than five minutes.
I got to make several joyful phone calls. Then a few friends joined me for an impromptu celebratory happy hour. Afterward Philip and I went out to dinner with a couple more of our friends. (Philip said I could choose any restaurant, and I opted for Mellow Mushroom. Soda and pizza, bitches!)
Congratulatory texts and emails kept coming in. It was such a high! My friend Amber said, "You deserve to have something go your way," and I have to admit the same thought had already crossed my mind: After years of struggling to start a family and dealing with an unfair work dynamic, it was about time for a big win.
Eighteen hours after I got the good news, I was on my back getting inseminated for the third time. It was yet another new doc, but she was twice as fast as the previous two dudes, and she gave Philip's sample a B+. His numbers were much improved from our last IUI, so I was pleased.
I came home and slept for hours. It was the deep, delicious sleep of relief.
By Monday night, I was already questioning things. A big meeting at work didn't go my way, and I wondered if the promotion really meant anything, or if it was just a begrudging effort to keep me from leaving the company.
Of course, infertility insists on bringing me down as well. I have defeating thoughts like, I'm glad I got the promotion, but what I really want is a baby. And I fret that the added work responsibility will bring more counterproductive stress into my life.
What is wrong with me? Why can't I just let myself be happy? Why can't the sweet, positive mojo of a win last more than 24 hours?
Thankfully, the work week has progressed in an encouraging manner, and I'm starting to let myself believe that the way I've dreamed about things functioning at the office might actually come to fruition.
I'm not terribly hopeful that the IUI worked, but it's kind of a relief to pretend I'm pregnant for two weeks and not feel any pressure to go running or show up at boot camp.
But somehow I've got to figure out how to rise above my circumstances. I don't want to continue to be tossed around by temporary setbacks and momentary successes. And I don't want to keep waiting anxiously for the other shoe to drop. Life is life; it's good and bad. I've got to just roll with it. And right now things are good, so I want to savor it for as long as I can.