I did my B.A.
Then my Honours.
Then my M.A.
And then finally my B. Ed.
I would love to finish off my Ph. D (which I started, but abandoned for my Education degree, that's another long story) or even start another M.A., but my student loans are even close to being paid off and I'd really like to move and get a nicer car one day in my future.
One of the reasons why I did so much school was because I just didn't know what I wanted to do with my life.
I toyed with the idea of being a journalist, an academic, a writer but none of them stuck.
Teaching was the first thing that I did that felt right.
The first class I taught was to some first year students. I felt like the clouds opened and that the angels started singing. I knew at that moment that I was meant to be a teacher.
Now I'm thinking because I feel so much love for this class, that perhaps that is all I'm meant to do.
Teach and love other peoples' children.
Perhaps that is what God and the universe is trying to teach me.
I don't know what kind of mother I would be if I had to teach full time.
I don't know what kind of teacher I would be if I was a mother.
I invest so much time and energy into my work. I love (almost) every minute of it. I don't think I could put in the same effort if I had a family of my own.
Am I thinking this way because we will soon be TTC again? Am I trying to protect my heart from all of the heartache that preceded my drug-induced break?
What I do know is that I'm scared. I also know that my heart and my head can't take much more disappointment.
I do know that if given the chance I would give my career up in a second, with no regrets, no looking back.
I want to have that choice.
I really do.