The moving finish line

It’s a warm summery- spring evening, the one I have been anticipating since we moved here, warm breezes ruffling the blinds and the sea air hanging heavy as the birds chirp and the sun sets in a blazing fire.

I want to be relaxing on the deck with a glass of wine and enjoy the quiet and relish my completion of my dissertation.

But wait.  I can’t.  I am not done yet.  I have revisions calling my name when all I want to do is sit and relax and drink in the ambience and yes, a little wine.

When I mustered up the courage to come back to work part time in the fall and put Isabel in daycare to do it, I had all kinds of expectations of grandeur. That I would just somehow sit down, with rock solid concentration and write my dissertation in six weeks like I did with my Masters. I figured I would need the fall semester and maybe the spring one for final touches and walk in May. Done. I was going to DO THIS.

Why?

Well just because I took one year off due to my c/s infection/PTSD and to raise Isabel, didn’t mean I stopped thinking and mentally preparing to write my dissertation. 

Here is what really happened and I will abbreviate:

1.     I had to ease into daycare with Isabel so I worked less that I had planned the first month

2.     I spent a lot of time re-learning statistics

3.     I got sick a lot, thank you Isabel

4.     Progress was slow

5.     I finally got on a role in January and pounded out my dissertation and in about six weeks (hey what do you know?!)

6.     My advisor is (not surprisingly) meticulous and slow to return comments (first snag)

7.     I have to extend my deadline to submit to my committee despite heroic efforts to make the deadline.

8.     I make the second deadline and submit (bliss, glory, lots of sighs of relief)

9.     I defended 2 weeks later, seminar was flawless, defense was grueling but nothing I didn’t anticipate (well a few doozies but I made it) and PASSED

10. But here comes the kicker(big snag), my committee decided not to commit reading my revisions even with an extension from the grad school, so try as I might, I can not walk.

cue lump in my throat and tears brimming in my eyes, stinging as I blink.

When my committee told me this, I thought two things: first, hey I am still going to graduate even if I don’t walk and second, man I really wanted to walk.

When I started my PhD. I was newly married, new house, and even a new pup, rarin’ to go and excited to pursue my dream work. It was a really great project and I got to teach and it was a terrific experience.

I didn’t think about graduation as the goal, but just a part of the package. I used my experience from my Masters to anticipate the steps I needed to take to graduate and took it one step at a time.  I managed to teach full time for two of the years and still complete all of my research and qualifiers on time.  When I left in the fall of 2010 to have Isabel, I had just the writing to do and I was in pretty good shape.  I needed maybe six months.

Ok, yes, having a baby is life changing and for me a little more involved with recovery and all but that’s not the way it usually goes, but that’s what happened to me.  I definetly had not planned to take a year off but that’s what happened and I do not regret a minute of it because that time was precious and special. 

The reality was though, that in that time, I lost momentum. I lost faith in myself. I felt doubt (did my peers think I wimped out? Was my advisor going to tap his foot and say I told you so? Could I ever think clearly again with the amount of sleep deprivation I was in? Could I leave Isabel with anyone?  Did I want a PhD. Anymore? Could I actually hack it and did I have what it takes to finish?) These were just a few of my thoughts at the time.

There were logistics to work out, like child care and the finances to afford it. But surprisingly they came together pretty easily.

Stepping back in to my work realm was a bit easier than I thought, it was like no time had passed when I was back and it was strangely comforting. I had changed a lot mentally and physically but life there had not.

I actually enjoy the balance I get from having Isabel at school part time.  (Who new right?!)

Well along this path of self discovery, the rubber had to meet the road and I knew I was going to have to dig deep and get this dissertation written.

But oh wait, right about then, we ended up moving 1hr away. Hmmm great timing?!

So, fine. I just had to commute and write and yes it was winter time.

I worked every nap, every weekend, every minute I was not watching Isabel for three straight months because my goal was to graduate.  It didn’t matter so much at first but heck if I was going to work this hard, I sure wanted the satisfaction and closure that graduation provides.

So after my committee returned the devastating news that no matter how hard I tried, they wouldn’t return the revisions in time, I have again lost momentum. I just don’t have it in me to try. I am not used to this feeling.

I think I feel more defeated because this isn’t just about me anymore, its about Isabel. I have her in my life and I put her first.  So on one hand in my daily life she is first, I also have to fit my professional life goals in because it benefits her in the end for me to finish and support her financially with the job I will get from my PhD.  I know all this in my head but my heart is aching.

I can’t believe how bad I wanted to walk. Its not the whole because I can’t walk, I want to walk thing, its that I worked hard darn it and it just feels anticlimactic to still do all my revisions and turn in them into the grad school, pack up my office and walk away. Because that folks, it was is going to happen in about 3 weeks.

I have been in academia long enough and through two graduations to know they are dull and long.  But the moment of joy I would have felt hearing my name called, getting my hood and handshake or hug from my advisor would have really made all my hard work and the sacrifices I have made to finish, when I will be honest, I reallllly didn’t want to finish.

Ok, pityparty for one is over.  I am not feeling sorry for myself or making excuses for not finishing. I needed to do the revisions and I my committee has the right to need more time so that’s the break.  I will get my diploma in August and I could walk next May (but I highly doubt I will).  So, I will muster the strength to finish the race, even if I feel like I am running at a slow jog and like my finish like keeps getting moved.  I have to be honest, its maddening to hear ‘you are so close’ when that finish line keeps moving.  Its tremendously stressful to keep trying to make deadline after deadline and I don’t think any human can sustain life under such pressure for so long.  I clearly can’t (I have had one illness after the next for 5 weeks straight).

Nonetheless.  Revisions are calling.  I am pacing myself. I am getting them done but I am not giving it every waking moment.  And I think that is ok.  Because in the end I will finish. I will turn in my dissertation, it may be a weighty tome that just sits on a shelf in the library collecting dust but I will know its there and I will know it will be my best work. 

I also know that graduation does not make the accomplishment, I did.  And I know someday after this is over, I will be able to look back and be proud of myself for finishing.  I know my mom is. I know Josh is and someday so will Isabel.  Because really, they are my reason for finishing.