The October 7, 2023 attack on our nation changed us all, collectively and individually. It started with a brutal massacre by terrorists on innocent civilians on a holy day in Israel, escalated into full blown war that has been going on for 283 days. Since then antisemitism has skyrocketed in America and globally. On the surface, our day to day goes on but in reality life feels unstable and fragile with a sense of urgency constantly bubbling just under the surface.
Almost immediately after the attack, I felt the need to go to Israel and help in any way I could. For the first time in my life, I regretted not serving in the IDF even though that wasn't done by girls back then. As months passed, this feeling grew more intense, pulling me toward helping my people. The intensity only subsided when I signed up for a solidarity mission and bought my ticket to Israel. Though it was just a small contribution, it felt right to help. We visited injured soldiers, sat with grieving families, packed food for those in need, and spent time picking vegetables to help feed the country and assist farmers who lost their workers to the war effort. Visiting the sites of the terror attacks—such as the Nova festival memorial, Sderot, and Tekoma where the burned cars are stored—was indescribable. The sheer horror of that day is unfathomable and it felt necessary to bear witness and help carry the responsibility of sharing the facts about what happened.
I wear the hostage tags in solidarity with those still held captive and their families who are enduring unending suffering not knowing the fate of their loved ones. After nine months they feel like they've gotten tighter and at the same time it feels wrong to take them off when there are still 120 captives in hell.
My personal life has taken some turns as well. For years, I debated whether to leave my job, enjoying the benefits but feeling stagnant and bored. I occasionally looked for other jobs without real intention of leaving, fearing change and worrying about the loss of my flexible schedule. In September, I found a job posting on LinkedIn and contacted the hiring director, whom I knew. After several intense weeks of interviews and negotiating, I received an official offer letter and accepted. The new job is similar yet different and better than my last one, though I'm still finding my footing. Despite some imposter syndrome and questioning the move due to the different pace than I'm used to, I haven't regretted it.
We're also still managing the situation with the special needs adult in our life. This has become increasingly complicated over time, adding significant stress to our lives and our marriage. We're working on the application to place this person in a group home, but there are so many barriers along the way. In many ways, our life feels stuck because of it.
We revisited the topic of another transfer and agreed that, given our current high levels of stress, it wouldn't be the right move at this time. While I agreed to temporarily table the discussion, I feel a lot of resentment and frustration about it. The only correct reason to transfer is if we're both ready for another baby, and he's not quite on board. I can't even bring up the subject without it striking a nerve and starting an argument. Considering everything we went through to get those embryos, and yes - me specifically - it feels like a punishment not to be able to transfer. I can only hope we somehow get on the same page, and eventually get to a point where we have the peace of mind to close this chapter of our life.
In addition to everything else, many people we know are moving to Israel - a concept referred to as "making Aliya" - due to disillusionment with America's politics and rising antisemitism, in addition to this growing compelling need to be in Israel. We teach our children to value Israel, so it feels hypocritical not to live there. I love being in Israel and want to support it, but living there is very different than visiting on vacation. There are significant challenges to making Aliya, such as financial hurdles, no separation between church and state, mandatory military service, cultural differences, and, oh yeah, active war. Despite these obstacles, I would consider moving. However, this is another tinderbox of a conversation where we can't even discuss it. He says the pros don't outweigh the cons, and he doesn't want to forever be an immigrant. I understand that on some level. Even so, I want to do right by our children and give them the values and childhood I missed out on. I don't know what the right decision is and feel it's not the right time to push the topic until I solidify how I feel about it. In many ways, until we get that special needs adult settled it's not a relevant conversation anyway. Another reason for resentment.
What I do know is that I feel uneasy. I feel like I'm not doing enough, or fast enough. I'm not seizing enough moments or creating enough memories. Life is short and I don't want to coast. I want to find the right path and put all my energy and resources into going full speed ahead. The question is: what's the target?
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