Sometimes, tears flow

This has been an exhausting week at work.  And not because I'm busy, but because I'm not.  It's hard when there's a week like this where it's slow and I'm struggling to find my purpose.  It makes me think about how it'll feel to have our baby in daycare while I'm sitting around doing nothing in another building 5 miles away.  Argh!  I try NOT to think of that, but it's hard.  It's especially hard on a day when my co-workers are at their "finest".  Today was one such day.  Without going into all of the details, there's a ton of conflict between the radiology techs and nurses, and often other people are involved.  There seems to be a battle over who gets sedated and who doesn't.  If a child is scheduled for a sedated MRI and they're at an age where they might possibly be able to do it without sedation, it's in the patient and family's best interest if we work with them and try to help them get through it.  That's my main purpose at this center.  To assess whether or not they're capable and if it's in their best interest.  If it's determined that they're a good candidate, I work to prepare them for the procedure, develop a coping plan, and help them through it.  We don't just talk kids into trying it, and we use our best judgement.  For some reason, the techs hate this!  They'd like to see them all sedated.  I can sort of understand the stress they're under to get good images, and their fear of failure if a child is unable to sit still and the study is useless.  But, they never come meet the kids ahead of time or spend any quality time with them to determine if it's a good candidate or not.  They then get really angry at us when we do.  Today was a day in which a patient who tried and failed last year wanted to try again.  I think we can all agree that a year is a long time in the life of an 8 year old kid, and that second chances are worthwhile.  I hadn't even seen the techs today, but when I passed one (the patient was waiting for her turn... still in a room and not in the scanner),  I said hello pleasantly and she literally grunted at me.  She continued to ignore me and give me the cold shoulder all day long.  I am sick to death of being treated like a leaper for doing my job.  I felt today like I'd just had it.  I've been thinking a lot lately about what my options are in terms of my career, and what comes next, and this really sealed it for me.  I can't do this forever, and likely, not much longer.  I'll figure it out, but in the meantime, they're doing a great job of making the work experience pretty miserable for all of us who go there day in and day out.  I mind my own business, try to be a team player, and do my job to the best of my ability.  I cant imagine how it's going to change for me once that baby is here, but I don't want 40 hours of my life to be spent in misery, because it's bound to spill over into my life that is simply wonderful.  I don't want that work life to ruin a single moment of my personal life that I cherish so much.  Anyway, I didn't really mean to use this space as a venting space.  It sort of all ties in, though.  The other thing that happened today was that one of the nurses who is on maternity leave stopped by today for the first time with her son and her new baby daughter.  This is the same nurse who gave us the tree to plant in memory and honor of our baby (girl) that never was able to be born.  AND, it's close to the year mark since that miscarriage.  I was happy to see her and her gorgeous children, but there also was a twinge of pain thrown in there, too.  I was doing well with it, and then something amazing happened.  Kathy, one of our lab techs who's been so interested and so supportive of our situation from the get go came to me to check on me.  She was very thoughtful as she asked me about how we're doing with our wait, and as we talked about it, she said that she just wanted to check on me with Janet and her baby here.  She was wondering how I was and if it was hard to be around that little baby.  And then, she cried.  She was so concerned about me, about how it felt to me, and that nobody else was thinking about it, that it made her cry.  Of course, as soon as I see someone's tears, mine follow, so Kathy and I shared some today. Not many, just enough to know they were there.  I told her that I loved being able to hold Janet's baby, and that it did fill me with longing, but not too much envy or pain.  I told her that some days are harder than others and that I'm proud of how we've done with all of this stuff.  I told her that we've gone from excited, to sad, to discouraged, to feeling like it's not real or ever going to happen, and back again.  I'm sure we'll have so many moments along the way.  But we trust that it's going to happen when it's supposed to (though I'm not sure I believe that.  I know that people like to hear that and like the optimism, so sometimes we fake it), and some day it'll be me stopping by with the little love of our lives to show him or her off to the people who were there for us throughout the process.  Today, I do have longing.  Today, I'm dissatisfied with the wait and I want it to end.  Today, I want my baby more than I want anything else.  Today there were some tears and maybe tomorrow there will be more.  Or, maybe tomorrow will feel like a stronger, less intense day and it'll be fine.  Either way, I am thankful today for Kathy, her sensitivity and her caring, kind heart.