Broken

Well that didn't last long.
Last week at the clinic they added a day to my schedule making me full time, they taught me to draw vaccines which hell I was looking at as good practice for the future, and what to look for in a fecal sample.
So when the head Dr. came in yesterday on what was supposed to be her day off I didn't think anything of it, they constantly switch around anyway. When she asked me to come into her office, I thought, 'Hey this is the perfect time to ask if the additional Thursday workday is permanent or not.'
Instead I was greeted with, "This isn't working out." The good day I was having popped like a wayward bubble. All I could say was 'Oh,' in a soft meek voice.  'You didn't do anything wrong,' the Dr. continues using her soft voice, the one I've heard her use on really sick animals, "It's what we talked about at the beginning, you just weren't the right fit.' I swallow hard and stare at the space somewhere off her left shoulder. My mind flashes to the interview she had a few days earlier. The one I told her was waiting in the lobby with a smile on my face, thinking I'd no longer be the new one. I mean afterall someone else had left since I'd been there. This must be her replacement. Inside my heart is beating like a drum, but again all I manage to get out is a weak, "oh okay' and a headbob. "I know you just got paid today but let me get you something for the time you put in this morning." I numbly follow her to her purse and accept the cash without looking at it. I swallow hard again and finally manage to say something, "Would you like me to finish out today?" My voice quivers a little bit. Oh no, I'm about to lose it. "No, we're not busy," and she turns around effectively dismissing me. I hurriedly put away what I was working on and grab my things. A part of me wants to rush through the door and run to my car. Instead I see two of the girls chatting away at the front desk, chipper as little larks. I think I shouldn't just leave. I should at least say goodbye. So I kinda walk in front of their line of view and give them a little wave, "Bye." The back of my throat is on fire. They don't look surprised to see me with my jacket and purse less than thirty minutes after I've returned from lunch. A chorus of 'Bye' and 'See you later' rings out and then they go back to talking. The fact that they aren't surprised stings. I make it to my car and out the parking lot before I burst into tears. I've never been fired before. It hurts. It hurts worse because I was blindsided. No one let on at all that I wasn't working out. I thought I was doing good. Why teach me new things and add days to my schedule if you're letting me go? I remember casually noticing the interviewee's resume left out on the counter. All the experience she had. The laughter between the two during their interview. I'm coming to the conclusion that until Monday I was working out just fine.
I'll admit that while getting fired hurts, I don't really give a damn about losing the job. I give a damn about what the job represented. It was hope. It was a way to pay for IVF. It gave me the opportunity to sleep at night and not spend every minute thinking about our IF. I feel like when she fired me she didn't just take away my job she took away our chance at becoming parents anytime soon. I feel broken and cheated. The night before I emailed the fertility clinic we had chosen in preparation to make our consultation appointment. I was so sure that by August I would have the money to proceed with full on treatment. We would finally have a real chance. To have that dangled in front of my nose and then ripped away is just cruel.
I'm trying to convince myself that this is blessing in disguise. Afterall my bad foot was acting up rather badly last week, to the point that I could barely walk once I got home. I was limping pretty badly even on my days off. I was wondering if I could make it. But by god I was going to force myself down that road until the pain of taking one more step was literally too much to bear because this was how I was going to make it all work out. Maybe I would have damaged my foot irreversibly had I continued. Maybe. Sometimes it's just too hard to make something horrible into a blessing.
I put my last check in the bank this afternoon. I pulled out $100 for me and put the rest into the fund. It may be a while before I can add to it again.