Endings. After four years with the same company—the company we moved to Los Angeles for and the company that gave me my first editor job out of grad school—last week was my final week of work. I knew this was the correct direction a while ago but didn’t decide until the end of July. Somewhere between Sacramento and Los Angeles, driving alone on I-5, I just knew. It was time to move on, to move forward.
Beginnings. Last week was also the beginning of IVF. Between farewell lunches and creating training manuals for the new editor, I had blood drawn and met with my doctor and his team. I sat outside the clinic on Friday morning, the air muggy and grey, and wondered about all that we’d soon experience in there. How many tears, how many heartbeats, how many heartbreaks—it all seemed to lay itself out before me, asking me if I was still brave enough to step forward.
My husband wanted to go to dinner to celebrate these beginnings and endings on Friday, but I just wanted to sleep. I’ve hardly …
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