The last few weeks have been awesome and terrifying. Keola went to Utah a couple weeks ago to interview at two universities there to hopefully make a good impression and get admitted into their PhD program. He enjoyed his time at both schools, but by the time he came home, we hadn’t changed our minds about which school we’d rather attend. As “luck” would have it, the other school he didn’t like as much rejected him anyway so I guess the feeling was mutual. Since then he’s been rejected by one school and waitlisted by another school, which leaves our #1 school left. We haven’t heard a yay/nay yet, and we should be finding out within the next day or two, or by next week at the latest.
You know what’s worse than a rejection? Not knowing.
Last night I was telling Keola that this feeling reminds me of the week that I’m due to give birth. Every morning I’d wake up thinking “Today’s the day! We’re gonna have this baby!” And by night I’m dejectedly pouring myself a bowl of Peanut Butter Crunch and slumping on the couch, convinced that I’ll be pregnant for the rest of my life.
Sometimes it seems like we’ll never find out. We’ve jumped through every hoop but this last one, and just like waiting for labor to start, it is taking FOREVER.
It’d an odd place to be in – stuck between life changing drastically, or life not changing much at all, and youʻd think Iʻd be used to it by now since it feels like 80% of our marriage was spent in this space, but I’m not finding it any easier. So I’m trying to keep busy with work and…I donʻt know…mindlessly scrolling Facebook so I donʻt have to think about it, and watching Trolls on repeat because itʻs Leoʻs absolute favorite. Somebody put me out of my misery already.