the snake shedding a skin?

It occurred to me sometime last night or this morning that the aftermath of this miscarriage has one positive dimension. It has created movement.

I have been depressed beyond measure for three years, since my first miscarriage in 2008.
I had been depressed off and on throughout my adulthood, starting with disordered eating in my early 20's, and I had been on anxiety medication at various times since I was 23. But the first miscarriage and the three years of not conceiving after that unravelled something in me. I have slowly come apart. Actually, it would be more correct to say that, though have come emotionally and psychologically undone, externally I have remained more or less the same. Static. Stuck, in fact. I am a teacher, and while I am good at it and I have the respect of my colleagues and administrators, I have been unhappy in the classroom for several years and have been in some ways dying to leave. Yet through all these years of reproductive sadness, I have been oddly and bafflingly unable to make professional changes. I even had a tragically bad school year last year that should  by any measure have sent me running into the arms of some new career, but by God if I didn't come back another year. (As it turns out, the classroom has been a mercy for me these past few weeks. The distraction of work that is totally engrossing and which permits no outside thoughts has been very good for me.)

But now that this pregnancy has ended, something is definitely... shifting. I have contacted about five different faculty members or advisors of graduate programs as I take concrete steps toward pursuing another masters. I might enroll in a fiction writing course this coming Monday. I am visiting one university this Friday to learn about a program in journalism, and another university the following week for an open house for their MFA in Creative Writing program. I also called Kaplan to renew the GRE Prep course I purchased this summer when I first began making tentative steps toward Whatever Comes Next. I let the Kaplan course expire without actually taking the GRE because my resolve fizzled. Fizzling resolve is precisely what has plagued me these three years since the first miscarriage. But now I feel a kind of push to make good on the inner yearnings-- to finally put in motion seeking out my third career, which is so clearly and inevitably what I'm headed for.

I wouldn't call it a rebirth. I would call it a resurgence of clarity, a kind of wakening of momentum. Borne of death, actually-- ah, the irony. Nor would I call this a benefit of my miscarriage. Nothing good has come out of the miscarriage. The miscarriage is a tragedy. But losing the pregnancy and now finding myself, once again, with nothing to look forward to and no change in sight, I am seeking out change in a way that is more proactive, energized, and healthful than anything I have done in many years. I may well enroll in an advanced literature course at the university this January. I may well start working toward a masters in something I feel passionate about, something that fills me with joy like I have not felt since I pursued my first masters in teaching eight years ago. My therapist exhorts me to listen to the voice inside me saying I'm an academic, and that I should not judge myself as lacking pragmatism for wanting to return to school for no other reason than wanting to return to school. I love school: it's why I left my first career to become a teacher in the first place. Now I just have to decide what exactly I want to go back to school for. The two most likely and compelling avenues are creative writing and literature. Both require a great deal of preparation before I can even apply to programs, because I have no writing samples of the substantial length that graduate program applications would require. But if I can just see this dream through-- not abandon in like I did the GRE course this summer because my negative thoughts and defeatism won the day-- then I could theoretically have a happy 2012 that brings me to a new and joyful phase of my professional career. I just hope I don't lose my resolve. Oh, please don't let me lose my resolve.