This last year I’ve been looking for jobs. I’ve applied for the few jobs that are appealing and relevant to me and my experience and abilities, attended a few interviews, and in between have been thinking about what I would really like to do. (Yes, I’m still trying to decide what I’d like to be when I grow up!)
My husband has also been without work for most of that time (though not just now), so I’ve been fretting about retirement savings, worrying about what sort of a lifestyle we’ll be able to live when we’re old. And of course, that becomes a little more pointed when there are no children to take up any slack, in the way that my sister or I can – if necessary – for my mother.
I feel as if I’m running out of time, and that is a bit of a flashback to trying to conceive, when I knew I was running out of time there too. The insecurities are different, but - like infertility - I struggle to escape them, even when I know I'm highly skilled and employable.