"What Do You Do?"

I hate this question almost as much as I hate, "Do you have any kids?"  Here's why: 

When I was a mere 5 years old, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I was going to be a teacher.  I turned my basement into my classroom.  I created binders full of curriculum.  My teachers would give me the extra worksheets because they knew I liked to play school.  I bribed my poor brother into being my student for hours on end.  

I went to Mizzou and got my degree in elementary education.  My first job was teaching 3rd grade in Fulton, MO.  I loved every second of it, even the challenging moments.  I felt like I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.  When I met Adam, I followed him to Kansas City and got a job teaching 4th grade in Grain Valley.  I loved that, too.  

When I found out I was pregnant, Adam and I decided I would take a break from teaching to be a stay at home mom.  I felt as though I was meant to be a stay at home mom, just like I was meant to be a teacher.  So, I submitted my letter of resignation and completed my 5th year of teaching.  It was bittersweet.  I knew I would miss my "kids" and helping them grow as learners and people.  But I knew my next job as a stay at home mom would be even more important and rewarding.  

Then I lost my baby.  

I was completely and utterly lost.  When I finally surfaced from the depths of my grief, I realized that in addition to losing my baby, I also lost my job.  I didn't realize that so much of my identity was wrapped up around being a teacher.  A job did open up and my principal was kind enough to offer it to me.  But I was still so consumed with grieving the loss of my baby that I couldn't even consider going back into the classroom that fall.  

That summer was awful.  All I did was think about my baby.  I stayed home all day by myself.  If I did work up enough strength to go to the grocery store or Target, I felt like there was a pregnant lady or baby in every aisle I walked down.

Eventually I realized that I would not get on with my life by sitting at home by myself.  My friend Jill realized this, too.  She told me about a job that came up in the middle school she taught at and I took it.  I am now a registrar/counseling secretary.  

I am still adjusting to this new title and not being a teacher.  I feel a bit silly and embarrassed when I tell people I'm a secretary.  Especially people who knew I was a teacher before.  Let me say, I have the utmost respect for secretaries, especially since becoming one.  They truly do make schools run smoothly and take care of everyone in the building.  And no one has ever spoken down to me or made me feel like being a secretary isn't a noble profession.  

I just am not okay calling myself a secretary.  I have a master's degree in education and I don't feel like I'm using it.  I don't feel like I am living up to my potential or doing what I'm supposed to be doing.  I don't want people to think I was fired from my teaching job or that I quit because it was too much.  I also feel bad about my paycheck shrinking considerably.  Adam takes very good care of me emotionally and financially, but I wish that I could contribute more income towards our household.  Again, Adam has never made me feel like I am not contributing.  But I know these are all issues I have within myself, not issues anyone else has placed on me.  

I am trying to make the most of my job.  It's by no means what I plan to do for the rest of my life and knowing it is temporary helps.  I like being able to support other teachers and students.  I like the flexibility it offers and I still get my summers off. :)   

Hopefully one of these days I won't cringe when I get asked, "what do you do?"  I hope that one day soon I'll be able to answer with, "I'm a stay at home mom."