Moving on.
Well, the interview yesterday went okay. Could've gone better, could've gone a lot worse. I think I was very convincing with some aspects, but less so with others. I won't be surprised if they turn around and say 'thanks, but no thanks', in other words - besides, the fact that I'm not an x-ray astronomer automatically makes me a bit of a wildcard. If I don't get the job, that'll be the main reason.
Staying with Jo and Ben on Wednesday night was interesting, to say the least. Seeing her, I didn't react as badly as I'd expected I might, though there were of course tears in a few places during the evening. She's looking wonderful, and at 31 and a bit weeks, pretty enormous. We talked a lot, and I felt her daughter's back through Jo's tum, but not any kicking/movement. And all the while, wonderful, wonderful mental disconnections were being made. We may have shared the same EDD, but I'm not pregnant, not in a position to be getting excited about a new arrival, none of that - and there's nothing like the evidence of your own eyes to kill off all those should'ves. It'll get easier again once she's born, which almost certainly won't happen on the exact Day of Doom. More disconnections in the future, anyway.
But there's more. She's a good friend, and was very sympathetic to how I was feeling... but. But. Her empathy could only take her so far, and there was a real, tangible gulf in our mutual understanding of each other. I'll get to her position one day, I've no doubt of that and I'm in no hurry to gain that understanding - I want to get to step three before I start worrying about steps nine, ten and eleven. But miscarriage is one of those things that... yes, you can imagine it, sympathise with it, but the reality goes (or can go) so much deeper. Infertility, too... I think she sensed she'd almost crossed the line when she (almost) implied that I should 'relax and it'll happen'. I am relaxed, and that won't make it happen, because I do happen to be one of those people who is biologically Fucked Up. But that's not the point. The point is, this experience has changed me. It's brought Jez and I closer together as a couple, and it's made us different people. I hesitate to say 'better people' - that's a rather subjective thing, really - but I'm leaning in that direction. Everything has deepened. I'm still getting used to my new skin, and I find it hard not to react to everything I feel. How can I describe this?
Hands up if you've read Bujold's Curse of Chalion and/or Paladin of Souls. (If you haven't, they're worth reading. If you have, you'll know what I'm about to say, I expect.) There's a concept in those stories which goes roughly like this. The human soul isn't big enough for miracles, unless it goes through a heck of a lot of stretching first.
That's where I am. I've been stretched. Unlike the fictional protagonists, I don't necessarily have a miracle waiting in the wings, but I've changed and grown, and I'm quite capable of finding/making my own. So, when I was hugging Jo goodbye yesterday morning, a little voice in my head asked whether I'd swap places with her, if I was given the chance. As I drove away, it suddenly sunk in that I was mentally recoiling in horror at the very thought. Give up all of what I've learned, all those changes, all that growth? I couldn't possibly squash myself small enough, or cut away enough of myself to fit in to the mould of someone who hasn't walked this particular path. Back in April, before anything happened, I accepted the possibility that it could, and arrogantly asserted my willingness to shoulder it - better me than someone who's been through enough already, or couldn't cope. Well, that kind of innocence was never going to last very long. Now, though...
Now, I genuinely wouldn't change a thing.
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chesneycat) wrote,
