https://www.vox.com/2018/5/8/17308744/bullshit-jobs-book-david-graeber-occupy-wall-street-karl-marx

I really, really enjoyed this article. If I go through my resume, there are a great many jobs that I'd put in the BS jobs category. The last line, the advice, doesn't help. I have yet to really understand what it means to freely chase what you love, feel liberated, but bear no financial stress, because if you're doing what you love, the money soon follows, right? I am trying to do what I love -- coding, learning, writing, creative expression -- but the money has not quiet made itself apparent yet. I feel like I'm getting there; Course Hero gave me that chance, and Haute Hijab provided the platform without the constant paycheck. It was always supposed to be a side gig. It's been 2 years since I left my full time job that would have given automatic raises every year. But the dissatisfaction from the BS work, the lack of sunlight, the growling demeanor of a colleague who had more power over me than both of my bosses because she held the keys to a VIP software that no one understood but used daily, made me realize that no amount of money was worth the negative increase it was having on my happiness. So I quit and never looked back. Never once wanted to go back. I feel surprised because I struggle so much financially now. I am grateful to have food and a roof over my head, but I live on a tight budget. Especially with a little one now. I deserpately want a job I love, but it's such an enigmatic concept. I wonder if the work itself is only half of it. The other half a culture, a good boss, room to grow and create and lead. How on earth am I to find it? Exploring seems like the answer. Being open and talking to as many people as possible. Putting myself out there. Going to things. Learning new things. Actually the book I have is supposed to help me with this, but I'm too busy Facebooking to really do it. I can't for the life of me get organized. That's another enigma. How does one really get organized? I want to find out from someone who was just like me and then BECAME organized. Actually someone who just BECAME better, overall. There are some podcasts -- I just went on iTunes and subscribed to a bunch -- I'll let you know which ones I like. The one I am listening to now is talking about nannies and it already feels out of reach. but I;ll give it a shot. ok bye!!! rushed because i am a mom and need to get shit done.

Rejection hurts so much

So now, this has become the private blog while my wordpress becomes the de-facto portofolio to potential employers... Hurrah!

I think today is the best time to write because all external factors point otherwise- my body aches a shit ton from a crazy HIIT workout at the gym yesterday (we bent our legs, and then held out 3 lb weights rotating them one way, then the opposite direction, then up and down. For some reason, it really really hurt!!). In addition, my one-year-old son (today's his birthday!) doesn't really want to nap, and I have this nagging coding project that was due last week that I'm struggling SO HARD to complete! I just don't feel particularly relaxed right now.

Secondly, I have to make a conscious effort not to feel like complete unemployed shit. I'm actively applying to more and more writing-focused jobs, but nothing has panned out yet. I have two freelance gigs that I'm doing on the side, but two weeks ago a really major company wanted to talk to me, and I felt like the interview went well. Then I sent my samples, and-- radio silence. It really did a number to my self-esteem. I'm trying to be as positive as possible and continue applying and working (see I'm writing now, that's good! I'm not succumbing to the funk!), but it's a little hard. I really, really want a good-paying, cushy, fun job NOW. I want to work at one of those elite companies so I can feel really secure and smart. I KNOW I'm smart, but I'm constantly humbled because I feel like I'm never quite smart or accomplished enough. After grad school, I signed onto the first place that made me an offer and I really hated working there. Hated everything- the work, my managers, the commute. I left it even though the pay was good! I wanted something more, something I felt happy about. I'm chasing career happiness and I wonder if it's a listless chase. Like, when am I gonna get my break? Will it ever happen? Logic is telling me to push through, don't give up... so many people tell me I'm a talented writer, but the struggle is so freaking real. And it's not funny.

22 weeks, 0 days

I am pregnant with my second baby. The decision to try again happened easily because one of the doctors I met a little after my first one's loss said, "a good time to try again would be 6 months from when you delivered." Hearing those words gave me a tangible date to work with and something to look forward to. I imagined it would be hard to be pregnant again after everything I went through, and sometimes it is, if I think too much about it. If I let myself mull in my fears and the what-ifs, yes, it's terrifying. Baby's been moving a lot these last few weeks and as I lay on my right side this morning his - yes, it's a boy - kicks were quite forceful. It simultaneously filled me with joy and anxiety. Because it's so reminiscent of the first one. It is so terrifying to have everything go so normally, and have a baby who looked so fine and normal not be. Any and every chance I get, I beg God to please, please, please give me a healthy baby. I ask anyone who knows I'm expecting to please pray for me. I'm purposeful about giving my body as much a break as possible and am hyper vigilant about not over-exerting myself or letting myself get too tired. If I wasn't pregnant I would judge myself so harshly and say I am being super lethargic and lazy. I am so scarred from last time is all. I started this new job at a great non-profit that does Islamic education to schools, hospitals, community centers and government agencies but only after a day of being there I caught a cold, and this was a week after recovering from a cold I had just gotten over. A voice inside me screamed, "Don't do it! It's not worth it! Quit now!" And I did. The UCLA masters, go-getter from Pakistan in me from three years ago would have been like, "Seriously, Alina?!" You caught a COLD at work and quit the day after?" It sounds kind of funny thinking of it this way, but I can't take any chances. Selfishly, I missed waking up whenever I wanted, taking naps, and acting on whatever whims I fancy through the day. And for some reason, as much as I liked the people and the mission of the organization I felt unhappy. I don;t know if it was dread about my health or lack of autonomy in my daily schedule, but I wanted out. This is frustrating because I pride myself on a strong work ethic, my intelligence, and ability to grasp things quickly. I feel like it makes me a good employee, but I suffer from this sense of entitlement, too. A sad reality of being a millennial - I want a good job that pays well. This would have worked in that direction, I have no doubt. But my impatience gets the better of me. I've worked for so many years now, at jobs I half-liked to clock in the hours and get the experience I can put on my resume. I'm done taking on jobs for the sake of just working. I want to come to work excited. I want to be challenged. Again, this job could have done that, but something inside me was fearful it wouldn't. The sickness and longing to sleep in combined with this frustration led me to say "No" and here I am at home, pondering what I should do with all my free time till June, God willing.

Back to the baby. I try not to make plans. I try not to think too much about what it will be like after June, but am praying with all my might that it's good. I didn't bring home the used newborn clothes Naiema has at her house. I did put his ultrasound on my fridge and kissed it at least once a day. It did feel like I was giving my baby a kiss every day, which felt really nice. I take my prenatal vitamins every day, but am not good about the iron pills. I want to take 3 a day but they make me so constipated, ugh. Worst feeling. I avoid chai and coffee, which I miss a lot, but am happy to give up. I could be better about my sugar intake. I had a chocolate craving last week and had the most delectable mousse cake from a great bakery in downtown San Jose called Choco-too. Excellent! Almost European in its delectable-ness, haha.

Oh, and my baby's one-year anniversary is this month. It's not too sad. I miss him a lot, but I don't feel sad thinking that it's been a year. I'm proud of how far I've come, of who I am as a person and woman today. I love that my story has resonated with so many people and helped others who've deal with similar losses, as well. I've made many, many amazing new friends and grown closer to existing ones, as well. I just posted on Facebook how he would be one this month, and all the likes are actually making me sad! I could use a mint mojito for this, but Amar scared me saying it still has caffiene in it. Ugh. Alhamdulillah that I gave it up for such an awesome reason. Always look to the bright side.

Right, 18 weeks to go. Bismillah. God is on my side. He has my back. I'm good. Alhamdulillah.

Late night musings

Yesterday, I remembered something my Urdu professor - whom I believe to be a bona fide philosopher - told us: a person has 70,000 thoughts that go through his mind in one day. What if I could chart my thoughts for a day, just to see what I spend the bulk of my waking hours thinking about - lately it's been about the baby, babymaking, other people's babies, the mold in the bathroom tiles, clothes to clean, food to cook, my coding class, my career, my family, my siblings, my nephew, going to Pakistan, people I'm mad at, people I love ... and so much more, which all feels so trivial. And this is not even 20 of the things I think about! I downloaded some addictive game on my phone that I can't stop playing. Add that to list of how I spend my time, which is only more depressing.

When I start to get really frustrated with myself, I think about the direction my life is headed in. It is so short. How can I let myself waste it like this? Somewhere in the 26 hours I spent in labor and delivery, I resolved that I had to do something great in my life. I decided that I needed to live a great life because it was currently flashing in front of me before my eyes. Six months later, I avoid crippling agony by existing in purgatory numbness, trying to minimize the stillbirth to an event that happened to me, but not make it THE THING that defines me. Every now and then, however, I realize with anvil-heavy acceptance that it really is a big deal. It is a fact that I try not to dwell on but sometimes reluctantly accept. I feel it most I see a young mom with an infant at the airport or on a sidewalk, and I miss having a child to love and receive love from. As if watching myself in third person, I see myself planted on the hospital bed, breathing and heaving like a marathon runner, pushing with every fiber of my being, a small person out of me. However, he's lifeless. But my body proceeds forward, working on God's preprogrammed biological algorithm: organs work to push out a fully developed baby, make milk, get post-delivery fever, etc etc. But -- nothing. There is an interruption, and interception, a line cut off. My first experience with labor and delivery, but there is no celebration of life, rather the bewilderedness at what to do at the loss of it. And then there's the moving forward part, which involves tears, love, contemplation, anger, and acceptance.

Six months later, I don't know what to make of it or what to do with myself. According to my friends, I am a warrior, an inspiration, a beautiful mother. Right now, they feel like empty titles. I had no control over what happened, and I realize I still have no control over what happens. And, in my high of an absence of emptiness (hormones? The high before the crash? Ugh, don't ask), I contemplate all the possibilities I can now explore. Because I survived, which by default, means the world is now at my fingertips. Life is officially a blank paper. Which means... what? I can master coding, spend countless more hours at it, write a book, try to meet Sheryl Sandberg or Elizabeth Gilbert, get through all the books in my room, travel, make more money... the possibilities are endless. My brain, hands, and eyes are the same as Einstein's or Steve Jobs's or Jerry Seinfeld's. All humans are capable of anything. It's how each of us chooses to spend our very limited time here on this earth that makes a difference.

Empathy and self awareness

an excerpt from a scholarship application:

Three months ago, I gave birth to my son. A few days before delivery, however, his heart stopped beating, and his birth was a stillbirth. The moments that followed when I learned of his passing were the toughest of my life. He was my first child and the anguish my husband and I felt at our crushed dreams as new parents is beyond description. Its intensity, however, is matched by the deep introspection I’ve had to undertake in reevaluating my priorities, goals, and mindset. With the help of my friends, family, and therapist, I’ve learned to ask for help when I need it, set boundaries, take care of myself mentally and physically, and value each second of my life and blessings. My loss has shown me how fragile life is, and how I need to make each moment matter. I’ve learned to let go of things outside of my control and focus on the good and beauty that is present in life. While it is easy to give in to despair or depression, I actively choose to look on the brighter side. This has helped me grow and mature in ways I never thought possible and expanded my heart for greater kindness and empathy. I know what it means to go through deep pain, and the necessity of being kind and supportive to those suffering. I also know what it means to give people space and let them go through their emotions on their own terms, at their own pace. I never thought I’d be able to sustain this kind of pain, but it awakened a strength within me I never knew I had. It has given way to greater self-respect and self-love, which enables me to extend this same love and respect to others.

On the grieving process

I have aged - in a good way, believe it or not - in the past two months by ten years. Mentally, when you go through a stillbirth, it does that you. It's been documented and my therapist believes it, too. I'm ashamed to say that I could never really empathize with those who had gone through stillbirths before. I heard of it happening to a handful of people before and while I recognized it was sad I didn't put it on the same level of other losses and didn't think grief could be felt the way you feel it when loved ones die. As the parent never raised the baby, and the baby did not even live for a day or a few hours in this world, I thought it wouldn't be hard as losing an actual child or baby. I can imagine that miscarriages are very sad and painful, too, frustrating if you've been trying for forever, but I don't even know what that feels like. Is the pain less than that of a stillbirth? I would hope so. Because this pain hurts a lot.

I wasn't able to empathize because I didn't know what it was like to be pregnant, and what that does to you as mother. We're mothers the second we conceive. For me, I was just counting down the days. My mind was in a completely different place. And the funny thing about my pain is that it comes and goes. I was trying really hard to suppress my pain. I was simply too scared to feel it. I'm so emotional and sensitive as it is, anxious, even, my brain was trying to protect me. It's really interesting. An out of body experience - my body was literally trying to take care of itself. A few days after delivering, I actually started at my hands and stomach in gratitude - as if to recognize the tremendous trauma they went through and thank them for not dying and giving up. Because when I pushed that baby out, a small part of me did die with him. I don't let myself fall to the deep, black pain this can take me to. The longing and the missing. Words can't express the way my soul feels drained and worn by this loss. And the tremendous, deep, all encompassing love. The love that is the polar opposite of the sadness my soul feels at losing him. This love is willing to go through any means necessary. It cannot be extinguished and is made of steel. It will last through my own death and Judgement Day itself.

This loss has made me see God in a new way. It's reminded me of my mortality and that those whom I love more than anything - parents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, and my husband - will go, too. I feel closer to Him than ever before. When I can't stop crying and the sadness consumes me, I imagine that I'm crying into God's arms and on His shoulder while He pats my back. He is Just. There's just no question in my mind about it. He doesn't just leave you to cry and suffer alone. And even if I'm not crying 24/7 for the baby, missing him at all times, God knows the depth of what I feel, and His reward is just as great. There's nothing more I can hope for than paradise itself. I could write pages and pages of how much I want to see my baby's smiling face, hold him, carry him, feed him, wipe his snot, blow air bubbles on his tummy, change his diaper, soothe his cries, make him laugh, watch him; and I've been denied that opportunity in this short life. But I'm reassured over and over that my pain is not in vain and is a vehicle for me to do so much good, and achieve so much good. It's made me kinder, more appreciative. I don't have room for any more bullshit or negativity. I am unable to tolerate negativity from others, and there's definitely no room for pettiness in my neighborhood anymore. This has made me press pause. I'm prioritizing happiness and love. Enjoying life is my mode of living now.

I miss him and I love him and I don't know what tomorrow will bring. But my list of things and people to be grateful for grows every day: the love and compassion I get on the daily from every person in my life is mind blowing. Literally every. single. person is willing to talk to me, cry with me, take care of me. I can't believe how lucky I am to have such amazing friends, cousins, and colleagues. I don't doubt for a minute that any of them will take me in and let me be me and take care of me for as long as I need it. I am floored and so incredibly grateful. Had this loss not happened, I wouldn't have seen them the way I do now or be who I am today.