"How is your heart?"
I read this in a Facebook message from a now-former colleague a few days ago, after she learned that my position was terminated "for operational reasons".
Yep, I lost my job.
And yes, it was unexpected, although some of the nurses know that I had a gut feeling that it was coming. They all told me I was crazy, as they all knew how much I put into my work and supported them and the needs our department in additional ways, but my intuition kept telling me otherwise.
It was a job, but it was also so much more.
This job was an answer to the prayers that I tearfully prayed last February, on a night when I felt helpless and hopeless to keep our family together in our rental home.
The job gave me an outlet, something fulfilling away from my home and my duties as a wife, mother, and every other role that I've found myself taking on with these last few years.
It also gave me a new circle of teammates, who quickly became friends and then family as we stood side-by-side through the blood, sweat, and occasional tears in our pediatric hospital-based unit.
And maybe, more important than anything else, this job helped me find myself again. My true self. My confidence, which is something that I felt that I lost a long time ago and have been searching to find again.
I can honestly say that I poured my heart and soul into my job because I whole-heartedly cared about my colleagues, the patients, and their families.
Losing this job hurt much more than I expected it. Probably because it wasn't just about losing a job, and instead felt like another hit. I had recently told a few of my closest friends that I was reaching my breaking point, and then this happened.
For the first few days, I felt numb, wishing I could feel something.
And then the anxiety kicked in and I felt the chest pain. Then the bouts of sadnesss, and
I cried my eyes out. It went back-and-forth, in between the texts and phone calls I had from colleagues and friends, and at some point, it turned anger, as the frustration set in that none of my words nor hopes could change the situation, even as unfair as it was.
But when I forced myself to stop worrying, something keeps tells me that there's something more to come from this, as though there's a blessing in disguise.
Maybe because I've gotten to the point where I know how much I've given of myself, especially these last nine years, and I have to believe that there's an unknown reason for it all.
As much as my heart hurts, and my worries of losing our home and my supportive local community seem more real than ever, I have to believe that all of these struggles, doubts, questions, prayers, and tears have been for a greater good.
Right?
But to answer the question, my heart hurts. It hurts a lot of other people who are impacted
by my departure, but it also hurts most for my family and me.
I'm struggling to understand why this happened, but also what is to come of it. I am pretty sure I deserve some good karma.
But I am also completely terrified that another hit is to come instead.
Last February I prayed for the support to keep our family in our home together, and now I find myself doing the same, maybe even stronger prayers this time as I almost feel like I need the prayers to keep me going.