The year stepped in calmly. We are living in separate states, him in Washington and me in South Carolina. Career is a priority, and I am striving every day to be a better leader. I am learning from peers, reading books like Radical Candor, and Hard Things About Hard Things. Most of my time is spent on building the function (team, processes, and culture) from the ground up. He is balancing his work and also shuttling between the two states. It is overwhelming at times, and by March we felt the need to take some time off. We drove down to a serene island, Kiawah Island in South Carolina and spend few days tucked away in a luxurious resort, enjoying the calmness and privacy of a private island.
Then, sometime around March-end, the year started its topsy turvy-ness. At work, unexpectedly, the leadership changed and everything I had achieved in the last couple of months became less important. Politics, scapegoating, reduction in my role started.
Stressed, I started oscillating between fight and flight. There were days when I simply wanted to quit my job, and then there were times when I wanted to fight to save what I have created at work. As things were slipping out of my control at work, I started searching for some peace and meaning that transcends the shadows of productivity and job titles. Last year, I started my inner engineering journey and I was being drawn to Sadhguru. The more I heard him, the more I wanted to learn from him. So when I learned that he is visiting Tennessee I impulsively decided to drive down for five hours to seek his darshan. On my way to Tenessee, I met with a minor car accident, but didn't panic and simply continued on my journey to see him. Being in his presence just flammed my desire to complete the inner engineering course under his guidance, and then later in April, I flew to Philadelphia to complete the course as it was being offered by Sadhguru in person. Those three days, being in his presence along with five thousand other followers helped me regain some sense of balance. I didn't realize at the time, but it seems like he appeared in my life at the cusp when I was going to need a higher power to sustain me.
Things at work were spiraling from bad to worse. Peers I trusted started backstabbing. Senior leaders were being fired. Work became about survival. And I learned; I learned from failures, I learned not to trust people. I learned again how power is the only important thing in the corporate realm, and at the end of the day everyone is only looking out for themselves. It was the most toxic work environment ever. The silver lining was that after seven years of hoping, I finally got my own work visa. Now all I had to do was to survive the work toxicity until October when my visa was going to be effective. The only thought I had was to keep my head down and make it till October and then find a different employer who will value my experience and skills. I thought about quitting a million times, and a million and one times I talked myself to hold on.
Somewhere along the line when work started to seem meaningless, we decided to give fertility treatment another try. The closest clinic we could find was four hours away in North Carolina. From getting our first consultation appointment (in May) to waiting for the genetic test results (in September) we spent countless hours traveling back and forth to the clinic for numerous ultrasounds, blood tests, and procedures. In between, we took time off and escaped into nature whenever we could. We drove across the Blue Ridge Mountains in May and then later celebrated my birthday at Mount Rainier National Park. The infertility treatment continued, and I started taking injection every day. Retrieval was a mild success and we got four embryos, out of which only a single embryo made it to the final stage. We later found out that even that single embryo was missing a chromosome, and had to be discarded. The abnormality felt like death.
Exhausted. Broken.
We decided to escape into nature for some healing and this time we traveled across Utah and visited all the five National Parks (Zion, Bryce, Arches, Canyonland, and Capitol Reef) in the state. We also managed to catch Jerry Sinefield's performance in Las Vegas on an impulse. But no matter what the external environment is one can not really escape brokeness. It envelopes you.
Back in South Carolina, I started seeing a therapist. I knew I needed help to process the pain and stress of infertility and work. Loss makes one hard, and I was trying not to lose my softness.
We decided to give IVF a third try. This time around we got two embryos, and one came back normal. Jubilated, we started a month-long wait for the implantation.
Then, suddenly his uncle in India passed away due to brain hemorrhage. He was in his early fifties and left behind young kids. I can't even fathom the pain of losing a spouse or a parent so abruptly.
Life is fragile and very brief, then why do we chase things?
I tried to keep my thoughts balanced by practicing meditation and Isha Kriya. I read inspiring books, like The Dip (it reiterated that I need to quit my job), Shoe Dog, Wall and Piece, Why I Stopped Wearing My Socks, Stumbling on Happiness, and a lot of books by Sadhguru. When I wasn't seeking inspiration in books, I was dreaming about quitting everything and traveling the world. I made some serious plans to visit Africa and Antarctica. Donated to plant 251 trees as part of Kaveri river rehabilitation program.
We visited Shenandoah National Park.
And then one day, via a phone call I got fired. Looking back, I am proud of the way I graciously handled the situation. I didn't let the conversation define me. For the first time in my life, I valued my own opinion about myself over another's.
It was also a relief and felt like a thorn finally being plucked out.
Soon after I got a much bigger and better job in the same city as the husband. So sometimes, whatever happens, happens for the best.
Things were finally falling into place. I was out of a toxic work environment, had my own work visa, and a job at a company I have tried multiple times to get in the past, and finally, after a year of long-distance husband and I were going to live in the same city.
Then, we got the best news, that we are pregnant. At that moment, I experienced true joy. It was the happiest moment of my life. I never knew I could be so joyful, so thankful. I floated the entire time.
Although pain exist, happiness also exist.
However, it was just a fickle of happiness and in a matter of a couple of weeks, our joy deflated. I had worse cramping and bleeding, and we eventually lost the baby on 31st December.
It was a boy. We had named him Arjun.
I feel empty, truly barren. Nothing left to give anymore.
Then, sometime around March-end, the year started its topsy turvy-ness. At work, unexpectedly, the leadership changed and everything I had achieved in the last couple of months became less important. Politics, scapegoating, reduction in my role started.
Stressed, I started oscillating between fight and flight. There were days when I simply wanted to quit my job, and then there were times when I wanted to fight to save what I have created at work. As things were slipping out of my control at work, I started searching for some peace and meaning that transcends the shadows of productivity and job titles. Last year, I started my inner engineering journey and I was being drawn to Sadhguru. The more I heard him, the more I wanted to learn from him. So when I learned that he is visiting Tennessee I impulsively decided to drive down for five hours to seek his darshan. On my way to Tenessee, I met with a minor car accident, but didn't panic and simply continued on my journey to see him. Being in his presence just flammed my desire to complete the inner engineering course under his guidance, and then later in April, I flew to Philadelphia to complete the course as it was being offered by Sadhguru in person. Those three days, being in his presence along with five thousand other followers helped me regain some sense of balance. I didn't realize at the time, but it seems like he appeared in my life at the cusp when I was going to need a higher power to sustain me.
Things at work were spiraling from bad to worse. Peers I trusted started backstabbing. Senior leaders were being fired. Work became about survival. And I learned; I learned from failures, I learned not to trust people. I learned again how power is the only important thing in the corporate realm, and at the end of the day everyone is only looking out for themselves. It was the most toxic work environment ever. The silver lining was that after seven years of hoping, I finally got my own work visa. Now all I had to do was to survive the work toxicity until October when my visa was going to be effective. The only thought I had was to keep my head down and make it till October and then find a different employer who will value my experience and skills. I thought about quitting a million times, and a million and one times I talked myself to hold on.
Somewhere along the line when work started to seem meaningless, we decided to give fertility treatment another try. The closest clinic we could find was four hours away in North Carolina. From getting our first consultation appointment (in May) to waiting for the genetic test results (in September) we spent countless hours traveling back and forth to the clinic for numerous ultrasounds, blood tests, and procedures. In between, we took time off and escaped into nature whenever we could. We drove across the Blue Ridge Mountains in May and then later celebrated my birthday at Mount Rainier National Park. The infertility treatment continued, and I started taking injection every day. Retrieval was a mild success and we got four embryos, out of which only a single embryo made it to the final stage. We later found out that even that single embryo was missing a chromosome, and had to be discarded. The abnormality felt like death.
Exhausted. Broken.
We decided to escape into nature for some healing and this time we traveled across Utah and visited all the five National Parks (Zion, Bryce, Arches, Canyonland, and Capitol Reef) in the state. We also managed to catch Jerry Sinefield's performance in Las Vegas on an impulse. But no matter what the external environment is one can not really escape brokeness. It envelopes you.
Back in South Carolina, I started seeing a therapist. I knew I needed help to process the pain and stress of infertility and work. Loss makes one hard, and I was trying not to lose my softness.
We decided to give IVF a third try. This time around we got two embryos, and one came back normal. Jubilated, we started a month-long wait for the implantation.
Then, suddenly his uncle in India passed away due to brain hemorrhage. He was in his early fifties and left behind young kids. I can't even fathom the pain of losing a spouse or a parent so abruptly.
Life is fragile and very brief, then why do we chase things?
I tried to keep my thoughts balanced by practicing meditation and Isha Kriya. I read inspiring books, like The Dip (it reiterated that I need to quit my job), Shoe Dog, Wall and Piece, Why I Stopped Wearing My Socks, Stumbling on Happiness, and a lot of books by Sadhguru. When I wasn't seeking inspiration in books, I was dreaming about quitting everything and traveling the world. I made some serious plans to visit Africa and Antarctica. Donated to plant 251 trees as part of Kaveri river rehabilitation program.
We visited Shenandoah National Park.
And then one day, via a phone call I got fired. Looking back, I am proud of the way I graciously handled the situation. I didn't let the conversation define me. For the first time in my life, I valued my own opinion about myself over another's.
It was also a relief and felt like a thorn finally being plucked out.
Soon after I got a much bigger and better job in the same city as the husband. So sometimes, whatever happens, happens for the best.
Things were finally falling into place. I was out of a toxic work environment, had my own work visa, and a job at a company I have tried multiple times to get in the past, and finally, after a year of long-distance husband and I were going to live in the same city.
Then, we got the best news, that we are pregnant. At that moment, I experienced true joy. It was the happiest moment of my life. I never knew I could be so joyful, so thankful. I floated the entire time.
Although pain exist, happiness also exist.
However, it was just a fickle of happiness and in a matter of a couple of weeks, our joy deflated. I had worse cramping and bleeding, and we eventually lost the baby on 31st December.
It was a boy. We had named him Arjun.
I feel empty, truly barren. Nothing left to give anymore.
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