Well I’ve done it. Today I quit my job.
The sweet pea thief has thrown me over the edge. What sealed the deal was finding her 20w scan in the work scanner the other week. It was almost as if it was sitting there waiting for the only infertile in the office to stumble upon it. The visceral response in me caused my body to shake and heave. That was supposed to be my scan, not hers. Suddenly that empathy, compassion and awareness she promised she’d have has flown directly out the window. Fair enough, these are exciting times for her. She cannot even fathom the effect this has on me.
Really though, I’ve been meaning to quit for over 18 months. I haven’t been happy there for a long long time. Unfortunately I’ve never been able to act on those feelings as I’ve spent much of that time pregnant or recovering from pregnancy loss. I was hurting. I wasn’t ready to further my career, to take on more responsibility, to manage expectations, to direct others. I didn’t want to miss out on how amazing my job would be to return to after maternity leave. All that flexible working, it was too good to be true. All that focus on the what-ifs that might impede a job change while actively TTC. That was back when I was confident we would have a sweet pea. I’m coming to terms with the fact that this may never happen for us the way we envisaged, or even at all. Of course we are still hoping that Plan A prevails, but now our plans B, C, D and E are in the picture too.
Regardless of what plan we go with, I’ve decided to not let our struggles with infertility ruin all aspects of my life and that includes my career. After all, one of the reasons we delayed TTC was to further our careers (hindsight is a fucking hideous cow), why ruin all that I’ve worked for now. I can do this.
So the sweet pea thief was the catalyst for change. Enough is enough. The pain of seeing her everyday has not waned as I hoped. She’s wearing maternity clothes now. It’s getting worse. That might be an indication of my lack of strength or endurance or positive mental attitude but it’s the truth. I can’t do it. I don’t want to.
But I have gotten over the trauma and initial panic of the sweet pea thief’s news and my desperation to immediately flee to the first job offer than landed my way. I was convinced that there would only be one offer, but there were several. And good ones. A snowball of self confidence developed to assist each interview after the other. Oh yeah, I am good at my job. I am an asset. I do do good work.
I’ve impressed myself that despite the emotional strain I’ve been enduring I’ve been able to pull myself together and sell my abilities. I was too scared in the last 18 months to open myself up to the vulnerability of searching for work and selling myself. When you have no confidence in your abilities in life, in creating life, it comes across. But this time it felt like a life or death situation. Get out or suffer the consequences. And I came to the table.
And this morning, after being greeted by a BFN staring back at me I decided. It’s now or never. And so I quit.
I’ve made a wise decision for my career. A decision I feel good about. I put myself first. I’ve shopped around, I’ve entertained all options, I’ve done my research. I found the right place. I’m taking on a lot more responsibility, making more money.
I may feel a bit like a fraud. I do worry about my ability to perform, about letting them down. About the time needed for doctors appointments and the emotional ups and downs of IF and RPL. But I can work on that. My long lost friend Confidence, she hasn’t forgotten about me. She’s going to help me to take off the impossibly heavy backpack of loss and anxiety and yearning a few hours a day to do this.
I am looking forward to the change of environment, of personalities, of approaches. I’ve made a move in the right direction and I’m going to give this a really good go. I am hoping that this positive step will have a ripple effect in my life generally. Let’s find out.