Running From Time

I have so far learned one significant thing in my life: you can not run from time.

The last 24 hours have been hard for me and when we started the adoption process, promised to be as transparent as possible so I am sharing this recent experience. I struggle in talking about challenges in my life so often turn to writing about them. For some reason, seeing my concerns in black and white allows me to feel less vulnerable than hearing them uttered from my mouth.

We almost had a child last night. It was close. I could feel it. I could imagine it. In a whirl of an hour I went from the highest high to the lowest low. It was getting late, around 9:00. I started my nightly routine of a hot bath with the news on my phone when shortly after I get a text from Ben, “You need to look at Cathy’s post NOW.” Jumping to my Facebook I see it there, also in the bold contrast of black and white, a baby was needing a home.

My heart stopped for a moment.

The following hour was a rapid firing range of Facebook messages between us, two other couples and Cathy, the adoption agency director. The baby was just born, mom was not prepared to keep the child, it was no it, he was a boy, happy, healthy and ready for the world. Things progressed quickly from Cathy answering questions to her heading to the hospital to meet with mom and discuss family options and by the time she was on her way, thanks to wonders of the internet, the mom had already chosen the couple. We waited with bated breath for the phone to ring. It did.

I took a deep breath and at 10:24PM answered the call. It lasted for one minute. I was a hard minute learning that we were not chosen. Some how we were not the right fit for mom and this baby boy. It was hard to not think, “somehow we are not good enough. I am not good enough.”

It was not the first time I felt this way yesterday.

For the last year I have served in a leadership role at work. Garnering the title Site Lead was not easy and required a two year battle with administration to be allowed to hold this role. As an APP (advanced practice provider, read physician assistant) I was one of the first to be granted this honor (a term not all would use but I did). I was elated. My office was supportive, my up-line was as well. From one day to the next, my level of responsibility increased as did my pay and I was invigorated, looking forward to the challenges ahead which included on-boarding new doctors, working on plans for a new building, retooling programs with committees and managing the office with our practice manager. It was a good year

And yesterday it all changed.

There was word that this evolution of the site lead role was coming, so I was not completely surprised, but anticipating the change and experiencing the change were two very different things. And as the later part of my day would change with a phone call, so would the former. Also only lasting 1 minute and at the dawn of a nine o’clock hour, I relieved a call from my boss. It was brief and only contained a request to meet at his office, but the brevity of his words rang deep. The implication of “we need to meet” was powerful and said it all.

Praise was provided, and appreciated, in which I was told I had been the best acting site lead my boss had worked with. He fought hard to keep me in my role but ultimately it was out of his control. In the end I completely understand the political and ethical challenges in keeping me in this role but I could not help but feel for the first time yesterday that I was not good enough.

Emotionally, mentally, even physically I am drained today. I am struggling with the thought that I am in my thirties and not good enough. Although intellectually I know this is not true, my soul aches today as it works through what all this means.

So that brings me to the beginning; you can’t run from time. I wish it was a week from now, a month from now or even longer. I know that as time passes, life will bring new opportunities. Time will heal as it is said but for the time being, time is also my enemy because this was yesterday, the wounds are raw and it is not yet tomorrow.

– Daniel