(The following is a long, long monologue...one I have needed to just put down "on paper" to get it out of my head...if you don't feel like reading it, I completely understand)
I remember getting asked a lot when I was little: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" For the longest time I always wanted to be a lawyer...because I was 'good at arguing' I would always say. I don't remember exactly when that version of an ideal adulthood faded, but eventually I decided it wasn't for me. Since that time I have floundered on a career decision...I wanted to be a psychologist, a sociologist, an accountant, a marketing executive and currently...well, I have no idea.
Once you're married your fates are intertwined. What I want to be when I grow up has to co-exist and be compatible with what he wants to be when he grows up. We have been facing this dilemma the last few months as we try to decide what life will hold for us once Nathan graduates in June.
We have no shortage of options, but that is part of the problem...give us too many options for a decision and we won't be able to make one. Add to that the complexity that adoption brings to the table and it confuses us even more. Nathan heard of a university in Florida offering an assistantship for French Horn grad students...which would be awesome except still being in school doesn't make you 'marketable' in the adoption market. Women and girls who are choosing adoption want a financially stable home to place their baby in and when you are a grad student (especially a music grad student) you don't have time to work, thus you are not financially stable in the eyes of a potential birthmother.
We have thought about the Navy, but that decision presents a Catch-22. We want children, but cannot have biological ones, so we need to adopt, which is expensive (average US domestic is about $20K)...and when we do have kids we want them to know their grandparents, cousins, etc. If we join the Navy we will have the $ to adopt, but not be close to family...yet if we stay here I don't see anyway for us to adopt because Nathan will have a difficult time finding a job in his chosen career path that has health insurance and pays enough for me to work only one job...or not work at all once we have children.
All this worrying about where we will be in three months is making me crazy. If we need to sell our house it needs to be on the market now and if we are going to move 2800 miles I need to get planning the move now...and finding a job and somewhere to live now. Feeling so out of control does not sit well with my OCD brain.
I can't help but wonder if our plans would be different if things had been different for us when we moved here. We got a wonderful house - which happens to be in the WORST Ward (congregation) in the Church. We are surrounded on all sides by families who do not speak English and have no desire to know or like us. If it weren't for my waitress job I would have no friends here (really, I am NOT exaggerating this...if I wanted to have a 'girl night' here tonight I would have no friends to invite...yes, Mom, I know you would come). We feel like outcasts and lesser members of the community because of the way we have been treated (or in actuality, NOT treated). If we had made friends here and felt welcomed and loved in our congregation and could at least communicate with our neighbors we might want to stay here...which is kind of sad that we would sell our house and move just to get out of the black hole we currently occupy. It is double sad because I LOVE LOVE LOVE our house. I love having the space we have, I love being able to paint or decorate how I want, I love having a scrapbook room... and if we moved there is NO WAY we could get a house anywhere else.
So there you have it...all the things that have been swirling around in my brain for the last few weeks. It does feel better, although not less overwhelming, to have them out. And as far as making a decision, we are meeting with a Recruiter with the Navy tomorrow for lunch...I have a barrage of questions for him. I'll keep you posted.