Ignoring the fact that yesterday was Mother's Day, I should be on top of the world. On Friday, I defended my dissertation, and aside from some revisions, am Dr. A. Anyone else would have spent the weekend partying and living it up. I thought the whole process was rather anti-climactic.
When I started this PhD program five years ago, it was both to better myself and to make a better way for the family we would have. Last year, I publicly proposed my dissertation, the first official step to making the dissertation happen. It was May 1, 2012, and I was 8 weeks pregnant. I had the perfect little plan that I'd get my analysis done by Thanksgiving, have a maternity leave over the holidays, and finish the writing in the spring. I was also going to walk across the stage today, May 13, 2013, get hooded, get my diploma cover, and smile as chubby little fingers tried to grab my tassel.
Well, that plan did not come to life. In so many ways, the stress and strain of the past five years was for Morgan. Well, the struggle is over, but no Morgan. Since Friday, I've been feeling let down. Everyone else has been so excited and proud of me for this accomplishment. I can't bring myself to care that much. I was kind of excited in the days leading up to Friday, but not so much since then.
It's a bittersweet victory, a booby prize. Rather than claiming the grand prize, it's like I'll only ever get a series of consolation prizes. I saw what was behind door number 3, but had to settle for what was behind door number one.