Something Bigger
My official journey to nursing school began in the Summer of 2016. I had hit a major turning point that summer; I had lost a few clients, was about to lose a few more, and was staring at the bleak realization of not making rent. I decided that I never wanted to feel that way again- like one or two clients could take me down, that all my “eggs were in one basket,” and that at anytime it could all drop out from under me. Being self-employed, these were all real possibilities even for those who try to plan ahead. I needed to make a big change.
One evening, my girlfriends and I were having a night at my friend Helen’s house. Helen has the loveliest cat (the only one I’d ever say that about), but I’m terribly allergic. As I struggled to get my allergies under control and take some benadryl, I cried out in anguish, “Damn my histamines!” My friend Liz, who is a nurse like Helen too, asked me, “Are you sure you don’t want to be a nurse?” My reply, completely off the cuff and with no hesitation was:
“Actually, if I was a nurse I would be a Labor & Delivery nurse.”
There, in the midst of sneezing and snot, I stated the answer to the agonizing question of WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH MY LIFE?! Randomly, uninhibited, instinctive. Yet when I said it, and when I later shared it with others, no one was surprised. I had finally uncovered something that had been ignored for quite some time.
Yet this time when considering nursing school, because I had in the past, it was different. I was ready to go back into the classroom, sit amongst kids I didn’t know, and try to take the science classes that had once scared me. Once I started, I never even considered turning back. The more I dove into my prerequisite classes, the hungrier I became. I started researching schools in Philadelphia, and then later I expanded my search. I investigated The University of Maryland, Johns Hopkins, Columbia, and NYU. I thought about accelerated BSN programs versus Direct-Entry MSN programs. I met with alum, spoke to professors, and started as a research assistant to a PhD candidate. It began to energize me. I started to have hope in myself and what I was capable of.
After learning the power of manifestation, I wrote down on post-its all the names of the schools I was applying for admission. I stuck these notes around my apartment and everytime I looked at one, I touched it carefully and paused, thanking the world for getting me into those schools. Mind you, I hadn’t even sent in one application yet, but I knew it was coming. It was going to pay off.
This past fall I finally applied. I'm thankful for my year of exploration because ultimately, I only applied to Philadelphia schools. Sure, it was easier to stay home. Yes, it was smarter in regards to cost of living. Of course, I wanted my friends and family nearby. But frankly, I just wasn’t done with this city yet. It had just become my home and I wasn’t ready to leave. Like all decisions, it had to be for my reasons, whatever they ended up being. I applied to the accelerated BSN programs at Thomas Jefferson University and The University of Pennsylvania, knowing in my head I would most likely go to Jefferson. My gut told me I could get into both, but my head knew that Jeff was the smarter choice. I got into Jefferson in November and was so thrilled! I was finally going to be a nurse.
And then, I was accepted to Penn.
While I had manifested this for over a year, I was still shocked. How could *I* have gotten into an Ivy League school? The girl who had always placed skating first, who took the lighter workload during high school, who picked her college based off of proximity to the rink...how could she have gotten into Penn?? I’ll be honest, I have always felt my strengths lie outside the classroom. My father has always told me I have an old soul, and innately I gravitate towards children, feeling as though I can understand them better than adults sometimes. My empathetic ear has been my greatest asset as a friend, not my ability to recall historical facts or launch into political debates. Even as a teacher, I always emphasized social skills in my classroom. My brother was the brainy child, and I was the emotional one. Just ask my parents.
Yet, I opened that email and started shaking with shock. Pardon my language, but I fucking did it. I accomplished something so much bigger than I had ever thought I could do. Five minutes later though, I started to cry, knowing I would have to say no. Suddenly and irrationally, I wanted the name of Penn on my resume. I wanted to say, “I graduated from Penn.” Everything rational about my process from the last year and a half went down the drain. I knew the reasons not to go: price and duration of the program were the biggest factors. But that was too logical for me; I just couldn’t latch on to those being MY reasons.
Remember, I’m the emotional one. I needed to feel the reason in my heart. And one average day after my acceptance email, I felt it. My journey wasn’t about getting into Penn, it was about finding my calling. It was about finding something I am so. crazy. passionate about. I didn’t actually need to be a Penn student, I needed something bigger. It was about creating something bigger for myself, for women, and ultimately for the world of childbirth. And when I felt that, I knew it didn’t matter if I said no. I knew I was going to get my nursing degree and I was going to accomplish the goals I had set for myself. I am proud to have been accepted to Penn, but maybe even a little more proud to know it wasn’t the place for me.