Kiss Your Miracle

I gave up my teaching position yesterday. My principal was wonderful about it, gracious and understanding, even though he now has to find a replacement for me. But I walked out of the school feeling funny. I can no longer say I teach there. I am officially jobless.

On the drive to school, practicality surged to the front of my brain and my head filled with questions. Is it wise to let go of a sure thing, a career with about as much job security as a person could hope for these days? What will we do if Adam, who works in the troubled home building industry, loses his job? What about all of my mom friends who say work is fulfilling and satisfying, that they like contributing to their families financially? But I managed to push my doubts aside and have the conversation I’d planned, trying not to think about it all too much.

It wasn’t until I got home and saw little Sky, clapping in delight to see me (clapping is her newest skill), that I suddenly felt good about our decision. I let out the breath I’d been holding and scooped her up in my arms. I do want to contribute financially, but not if it means teaching full-time. To be completely honest, I never found teaching all that fulfilling or satisfying in the first place. There were things about it that I liked, but it doesn’t compare to being with Sky. Yes, there are days when I count the minutes till Adam gets home. But overall, I’m living the life I always wanted. I feel strange when I’m away from my little girl. I like the way we hang out in our pajamas half the day, the way things are flexible and low key. I like not missing out on the small, every day things in her life. When I go into her room to get her up from a nap, I always open the door slowly so I can be sure to see her face when she spots me. Then I walk over to the edge of her crib, look down into her sleepy-smiley face and say, “Are you really my baby girl?”

I don’t believe the working mom issue is a moral, right or wrong decision. I know that if I chose to go back to school, God would be with me. He would give me the energy to teach and an attachment to my students. He would give me the grace to handle life as a working mom, as he has to so many of my friends, and he would give me the ability to make the best of it. But it’s not what I want to do. If I went ahead with it anyway, my motive would mainly be fear – fear that we’d struggle too much financially or that I might regret the decision later. It’s a risk to let the job go when I don’t have anything else lined up yet. But instead of focusing on the what-ifs, I want to let the situation motivate me to be persistent in searching for a better job, something I can do part-time, something that earns a little money without sacrificing what’s valuable to me: days at home with my miracle baby.