As A Driven Leaf

We had our second meeting with the rabbi today. We've been trying to schedule it for months, and there has always been a conflict either on our end our hers, so it was nice to finally sit down again. We just missed the last round of Judaism classes and are waiting for the next to start, and the rabbi didn't want us to have to wait that long to be able to start our process. I'm an eager student, so this suited me just fine, but the logistics of getting together on a weeknight have been tough.

Because it had been a while since our first meeting, we spent some time chatting about what's been going on in our lives (not much, it turns out!) before delving back into conversion talk. Rabbi asked our impressions of services so far, especially while we are yet to receive education about what is going on. I told her that the biggest thing that struck me from early on was the similarity to my Catholic upbringing, as far as the structure of services. There is singing, praying, standing, sitting, a sermon - even turning to one another to say "Shabbat Shalom" or "Good Shabbos" reminds me of the sign of peace in Catholicism. I told her that it was familiar and comforting, and in a way that is meaningful and spiritually significant for me, which is nice since I don't know what everything means and don't always understand exactly what is going on.

I also shared (since Nicole clams up in these meetings) that Nicole, who is a generally anxious and high-strung person, has expressed feeling calmer and more centered after going to temple, and that we both notice a difference in her the weeks that we have missed. Rabbi started talking about how "Shalom" means "peace" and how Shabbat is meant to be a day to rest and refresh your soul, in whatever way is meaningful for you. (Another example of a loose interpretation allowed by Reform Judaism - in more conservative sects, there are specific actions that are allowed or not allowed, but in Reform, it's whatever for YOU is restful and refreshing.) She brought over the prayer book that we use in services and broke down one of the hymns that is a literal translation of some verses from Genesis, and tied that in to what Nicole had brought up. I love, love, love being able to start a conversation based on our experience and have Rabbi use her knowledge to connect it to Judaism. It's such a powerful way for me to learn.

While speaking about the intentions for Shabbat, Rabbi suggested we start thinking about small ways that we might want to honor Shabbat at home, such as by lighting Shabbat candles. I told her that we both love reading and sharing what we're reading, whether with magazines, books, etc., so we had been looking for books that we could read aloud from together. Rabbi got excited and started talking about all kinds of books, and wrote down suggestions for us. She flitted around her office looking at different ones that she had in mind, based on our answers to her questions about what we find engaging and helpful, and then lent us one called "As A Driven Leaf" by Milton Steinberg. The summary on the back says, "The magnificent work of modern fiction that brings the age of the Talmud to life, and explores the times of Elisha ben Abuyah, whose struggle to live in two worlds destroyed his chances to live in either." Ooooooh.

This book is perfect for Reform because it addresses the conflict between religion and science, and how we grapple with that as people who identify as both intellectual and spiritual. It's a novel utilizing a real-life character who first rocked the boat by suggesting to the "sages" (elder rabbis) that perhaps you don't need to reject religion or reject science, but instead can embrace both, using science as a basis for faith and vice versa. The struggle for intellectual but deeply religious Jews who were thirsty for the knowledge being gained by the Greeks is real, and Milton Steinberg humanizes that large-scale struggle by creating this tale around a real person from history who first made waves. It's SO ME that I can't even handle it. It's light reading just in that it's a novel, not heavy nonfiction, but it's so intelligently written that it reads like a college assignment.

Originally we were going to read a chapter or two every Shabbat together, but we were excited to see what it was about and started tonight. Then we realized the chapters are pretty short and we could easily and happily do one a day, which also clears the way for more of Rabbi's recommended reading afterward. This evening we read the prologue and first chapter, and then talked about it. It felt like our own little book club and religious study. (Granted, we had been talking about more of a daily prayer type book when we first mentioned it to Rabbi but must not have communicated that clearly, and now that we are reading from this book daily, we STILL need to think of a way to honor Shabbat that is different from the rest of the week!)

Rabbi said today that she loves teaching children, but that she has a special place in her heart for teaching adults because they have a whole different appreciation for what they're learning. I must agree - I don't think I ever expected the process of conversion to be so exciting and enjoyable!

Happy Mother's Day!

Last night we we went to Nicole's parents' for appetizers and drinks. My father-in-law had brought his mother  down from upstate, so some people were gathering to celebrate with her. Nanny is the only surviving grandparent either of us has. Aunt Sue and Uncle Anthony and their two daughters, Liz and Michelle, came over, and it was so nice spending time with them. I see them at large family events but haven't really spent any time just with them. They were so down-to-earth, and I told Nicole those are cousins I could see us enjoying raising children with, going to each other's events and celebrations. Nicole said they have always been her closest cousins growing up, and that she was so glad that I had this reaction to them. Both of them are in long-term relationships and are expecting to be engaged very soon, so we could actually be on a similar timetable.

Because of this, the conversation turned to children quite frequently. As always, I talked about how ready I am, and Nicole made jokes about how she would be ready in about five years. It's nice to have relatives reinforce for Nicole that you can't always start a family in such a linear fashion, with everything perfectly in place, and that we shouldn't let home-buying be such a hard and fast ultimatum for having babies. NYC has a crazy cost of living, and it's not typical for 28-year-olds to be able to afford their own home here. We may have to settle for buying a co-op (NYC's version of a condo, with slightly different rules) for five or ten years, so that at least we aren't just throwing money away into rent while we save. Or we may have to continue living in an apartment for a while longer and not put off having children until we own a home. The white picket fence isn't so realistic here, and that's the sacrifice we're making to stay where we love and have good jobs and protections and freedoms.

The biggest obstacle to babymaking would be if we move into Nicole's parents' basement apartment to save money. They continue to offer this, and I have continued to dig my heels in. I have a lot of pride around the independence I've achieved since moving to NYC at age 21, and the idea of "moving back home" is a really hard pill for me to swallow. I've been frank about this to Nicole's mom, and she was pretty hurt. She said that when she moved into this house, she hoped to be able to help her family by having that apartment (and she has - her mother lived there until she passed away, and Nicole lived there until she moved in with me), and that it is a little insulting that I would think of it as such a terrible thing to live there. I tried to explain to her that it's not that I don't appreciate the help, or that it's a terrible thing to have them upstairs. It's my own sense of being a successful independent adult in a grueling city, having struggled to survive but having moved up and up in my living spaces. I'm now in a spacious, fully furnished two-bedroom with a little balcony and gorgeous sunny windows. Going from that to a basement apartment with one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and tiny windows near the ceiling is just a hit to my pride. It doesn't mean I won't suck it up to save money and do what's best for us in the end, but I can't lie and pretend it's an ideal solution. I don't mean to be ungrateful, but my reaction is just there.

If we don't have somewhere by the time our lease is up again, February 1, this is what we've decided our next step is. Our landlord isn't respecting the rent-stabilization of our apartment, and raised our rent more than he was supposed to when we renewed this year. We don't want to have another increase next year and even less to put away toward a house. We really need a larger down payment, and we can't save that much while living here. If we moved to her parents', we could save at least $1000 per month more toward a house. That's pretty significant. I'm just having difficulty with the idea of moving our lives into a more cramped arena, with little natural light (a BIG deal for me), and much worse, the idea of moving AGAIN. I haven't lived anywhere more than two years since moving to NYC. I'm constantly packing, and haven't even bothered to hang anything on the walls in the past few years. I'm just tired and ready to be settled. The idea of a temporary move makes me feel exhausted and discouraged.

On top of that, I know this move would delay baby plans. We could try for a baby while in our current apartment, but not while in the small one-bedroom apartment at her parents'. Moving there means for sure waiting until we have a house, which could be another year. Not only would it not be comfortable, but the money it's going to cost us to try to conceive - well, spending that every month would defeat the purpose of our packing away extra money toward a down payment by living there in the first place.

I honestly don't know which I'd prefer. If we do a co-op, we could start trying a year or so sooner, which really makes me lean toward this option. But I also think it's dumb to let a year's delay keep us from getting a house. If just a year of that extra saving can get us somewhere where we can have a swingset and a vegetable garden, instead of a park and a shared courtyard, isn't that worth the wait? If we buy a co-op, we're stuck there for a few years, at least. The housing market will only be improving, selling is difficult and messy, and our kids will be growing without a backyard. Millions of kids grow up happily in NYC without backyards, but I can't let go of that dream.

I'm really not sure what to do. I guess for now we will just keep looking and seeing what's out there, and hope that the answer will be clearer as we near the end of the year.

To work or not to work?

I have so many conflicted feelings about returning to work after having a baby, which certainly isn't a unique struggle. I know that not going back at all isn't an option for me. I feel very strongly that what I'm doing is my calling, and that my two currently nonexistent children aren't more important to the world than the dozens I serve every day. I owe it to these children who don't have stable, loving environments, and I owe it to the world and to my generation's future to help these kids find their way to being productive, healthy adults. No part of me can reconcile stepping back from that to focus on just two kids, at the expense of so many others. This was part of my struggle when for a few years I thought I might not want to have children, and part of my deal with myself when I went back to wanting them was that I would have to be able to continue my work with adolescents.

I've been a supervisor for seven months. In that time, I've helped secure life-changing services and resources for a transgender teen that he was not getting while with the previous supervisor. This kid, for me, represents why not going back to work isn't an option to me. He represents why I don't just feel replaceable, that anyone could fill my shoes and the kids would be just as well off. MY presence, as Rachel, matters. (I don't think anyone could make it long in social work if they didn't believe that.)

I also need it for me, if we're being honest here. I know myself well enough to know that, for my own psychological well-being, I need something that's completely mine, separate from my family. Something I enjoy and value and take pride in and feel competent in. I've been working since I was 15, and it has always served this purpose for me. As much as I want to be home with my babies, I don't know how well I'd hold up without having that outlet.

With that said, I wish I could have my cake and eat it too. My dream would be to work part-time, about three days a week. I feel this way for many reasons:

1. I would love to do all the yuppie mother/baby activities, like baby yoga or mother/baby swimming at the YMCA or playgroup. Those kinds of things are SO appealing to me as fun ways to bond (and I feel like the social aspect would be great for both of us). Working five days a week would leave no time for this - or energy, for that matter.

2. Weekends are already hard with two working NON-parents because it's our only time to go grocery shopping, clean the apartment, and do laundry. On top of that, there are always family or other events to go to, and there will be even more as more babies enter our friends' and family's lives. It would be so nice to have a couple of days during the week to be able to knock these things out, and have weekends free for relaxed family time.

3. It's going to fly. Everything does. I feel like I'm constantly trying to grasp moments as they whiz by me, and I'm sure the hardest of all will be my baby's development. I don't want to miss anything. In a way this is an unfair sentiment, because the working parent will always be the one forced to make this sacrifice, and must feel similarly.

Part-time work might be a pie-in-the-sky dream considering the cost of living in NYC, but it's a possibility that we continue to talk about. This isn't something I could do at my current agency, so it has had me looking around just to know what's out there. I don't plan on leaving my agency until I feel I have to, because I love it. I make good money compared to similar positions at other agencies; I have great benefits including five vacation weeks, Jewish holidays off, a pension, and a full sick bank that I can use toward maternity leave; I love the atmosphere of my office and the people I work with; I want at least two years' experience as a supervisor so that I have that on my resume without looking like I ran from it or couldn't handle it; I'm HAPPY.

However, coming home between 6:30 and 8:00 is not going to fly when I have my wife and baby at home. Nicole works a steady 8-4 schedule. She will always be able to pick the baby up and be home by 5:00 latest. She'll cook dinner, feed the baby, give the baby a bath. Then I'll come in and kiss the baby goodnight and put her to bed. This thought makes me so sad that I can't even handle it. A half hour bonding with my child is not okay. Granted, if I can leave right at 5:00, I'm home just after 6:00. But that isn't reliable, and when we move out to Long Island, my commute will get longer. 7:00 doesn't even sound THAT bad, but only having evenings together makes every hour count.

As I've looked around, I've noticed a few openings for social workers within the health system where Nicole works. She says they're very hard to get, and they are no longer allowed to refer people or give any kind of boost to people they know, but I'm confident in my skill set and I think I'd have a good shot. The positions themselves were very appealing too. They would utilize the administrative skills that I'm learning, while also allowing me to do some counseling, write psychosocials, etc. - the real social work skills that I miss using. And they are at a hospital, so it's a pretty 9-5 schedule. And I wouldn't have to be on call every few months. And I'd be on Long Island and could drive to and from home within a half hour. The salary would probably be comparable, with less room for movement within the organization, and I'd have the added expenses of a car, but that's fine with me. Just to leave at 5:00 every day, not have to work weekends, and not have to be on call would add so much to the quality of my time with my family that I wouldn't mind having less expendable income. We can live on a little less than we're currently taking in.

None of this would be an issue until it's time to come back from maternity leave, but I like knowing what's out there. It's a relief to be able to imagine a regular working schedule where I could get home not long after Nicole and spend time with our little family. Child welfare is the most stressful (and most underpaid) field of social work, and I know that making that move to helping people (hopefully still adolescents) in a different capacity would be much welcomed for me. I've done my time in foster care, and what I've learned about healing trauma is an invaluable tool that I can take with me to any other field of social work. There are traumatized people in hospitals, in schools, in courts - everywhere. I think separating myself from the child welfare system is the best middle ground I can find - continuing to help heal people in order to work toward a healthier world, while also being able to prioritize the needs of my family.