The Door

Sometimes things happen. Coincidences happen, or someone says something that makes you put together the solution to a problem, or something catches your eye that is relevant to whatever is going on in your head. You guessed it, that last one happened today.

As I’ve mentioned, I’m not very spiritual. I have troubles seeing patterns in coincidences as meaning anything other than confirming that I’m human and naturally see patterns. Our subconscious minds are great at picking up on small details we don’t truly register, working behind the scenes to pull together random thoughts, then jumping up and down and shouting until the conscious mind picks up on it. That’s my take on things, at least.

Today’s moment for me wasn’t exactly an awakening ohmygod moment with triumphant music playing. It was much more peaceful than that. It also wasn’t a gentle end-the-current-stress moment either.

The fluorescence microscope’s bulb finally gave up the ghost today. I’ve known this was coming, didn’t really know where to go to get the new one, and so procrastinated. Twit. But that’s not the point. I finally was forced to find the Media Group, and go there. In the basement of one of the instructional complexes I peered at doors as I walked, looking for the right place. Offices found and bulb bought, I headed out, but just felt … odd. Like someone inside had just grabbed the controls and insisted, “Stop and look!”

I actually looked, and took in what was written on the door across the hall. “Midwifery,” it read. I’d stumbled across the offices of the midwifery programme at the university. For a moment I contemplated going in and asking some questions if anyone was available.

Around the time that Cameron was born I became interested in the idea of midwifery. I had midwives, and loved the process. I was surprised at my reaction – I was thinking that this was a career I would really love. While it’s a tough and demanding career, how many really give so much joy? I read into it more, and asked questions, becoming more and more convinced that eventually I might choose that path.

Lately I’d started to think about it more, keeping it to myself, growing frustrated and sad. It’s not that I dislike my current position, far from that! I’m just not sure I want to do it for the rest of my working years, and I don’t really see myself having much ‘upwards’ mobility. But why frustrated and sad? It’s just not an option right now. Certainly I could get a loan, get the government assistance with rental and daycare, and probably be able to afford it. But check out the fine print on the programme, and you hit what’s stopping me. You need to be willing to move anywhere in the province for your practicum, and well, let’s just say that babies aren’t nine-to-fivers. You’ve got to be ready to do long hours, and overnights. Not much option for daycare when you’re called in to work at 2 am.

Standing there in the hall (thank goodness it’s not a busy hallway), I thought all of this with a little grumble in my head. For a moment. But you know what? It’s okay. The programme isn’t going anywhere, it’s very real and physical. It has a door. With a sign on it. I found this somewhat reassuring. It’s not the right time for me, on a number of different fronts, not just the three year old one. I’m very much not in a mindspace where I could do such a thing effectively. This, however, won’t last forever. A good phrase to keep in mind, one that Mom’s brought up on occasion and that came up at Mama Renew the other night, is this: This too shall pass.

I’ll get there. If being a midwife is what I really want, then it’ll be a good thing when I get to it. There’s no rush. In ten years it’s still a maybe. In the meantime, I need to just keep going with my current trajectory, explore the possibilities, so that if it comes to be time to give midwifery its time I will be ready. I won’t feel, then, like I just finished school only to give it up and go for something new.

I didn’t go in. And that’s okay. I walked back to my office to email the guy at Zeiss to say, “I’ve got the bulb, can you come put it in?” Hopefully he’ll teach me how so I can save the centre a few hundred bucks a year.


3 responses to “The Door

  1. It will happen when the time is right. You are amazing. if the zeiss guys doesn’t show you how to the change the bulb I can. Also the zeiss website has a pretty good how to on it.

  2. Cool awakening, Melanie. At the very least, it has you thinking about your ultimate passion.

    I’m a believer in we all have ‘our thing’. I’m still trying to find mine and I have my own biz! But I know my thing is still out there, whevever it is. And I’ll never give up looking!

    You are most fortunate to have discovered The Door. We are offered so many choices in life and it’s hard to chose at times. I feel as you do. Big time.

    I can’t wait to find My Door!


  3. Hon, you know that one of my other best girlfriends is in the program, right? We should all get together and chat — she can probably give you good tips.

    I’m wondering about “The Door” too…

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