one.
THE YEAR OF B
-"You definitely need to be in fashion", declared my friend and Ralph Lauren Director, Wendy. We were brainstorming possible career paths for me, not mere jobs, but somewhere where I could actually grow and focus. Sitting across from each other at a communal table at Le Pain Quotidien I vented my life's frustrations. My fear of missing out on my vocation, of not being able to make something of myself away from my past life as an attorney.
Back then I was working at the intensive care unit of a kid's hospital, helping out with their research and clinical trials. I had been there for a year and a very intellectually stimulating one, but I felt like a fish out of water, on the medical short bus, and my creative side was being starved. This led to reevaluating it all. And so it was decided that Wendy would look for something in fashion PR within Ralph Lauren and I would actively seek out job opportunities I found interesting. "It's gonna be great", she said. "It will be like, the year of B."
I quit my research job, not as happily as I thought I would, and took a PR summer job in New York City. It was a pretty legit firm, doing PR mostly for music and film. I had visions of myself becoming a competent and sought after publicist who as if my magic made things happen, or made them go away. I would go to work in pencil skirts and Louboutins again. I would commute on the train with all the suits. This was it, a new chapter, a new adventure, a new challenge. I was ready to take on the city. It was, after all, the year of B.
A week later I found out I was pregnant.
There was once a little plus sign,
that created some division,
and some symptoms that included,
nausea and a blurry vision.
Then along came the swelling,
and the absence of my waist,
my boobs like watermelons,
in my mouth a tinny taste.
If I had had x ray vision,
what is it that I would see?
myself as a Russian Matryoshka,
a mini doll inside of me?
In my head so many questions,
who , what, me , mother to-be?
after all of this is over,
will there be some normalcy?
I panic about everything,
from stretch marks to my career,
that stray thought from months ago,
that stray thought is REALLY here.
