You can't always get what you want

So I was in Washington DC this last weekend on a singing gig which involved a “battle of the bands” like they used to do in the old big band days.  I have even hosted these “battles” at my own dance event on several occasions, but they’re really more just two bands trading off and then jamming at the end.  Much to my chagrin, the organizers of this event decided to have an actual battle, as in, at the end of the night have the audience cheer for their favorite, and use a sound meter to judge the winner.  We were not the winners.

Now this doesn’t mean we weren’t good, or that the audience didn’t like us, or that the other band was so amazing.  It was mainly that they’re the new cool band and they had a lot of friends there (who we like to refer to as “the jazz hippies”) who were very vocal.  Everyone loves the new shiny thing.  God knows I’ve endured this phenomenon with my dance event for over a decade now, and it’s never pleasant, but it’s part of life.  You can’t always get what you want.

My co-band leader was totally devastated and couldn’t talk the rest of the night, but to his everlasting credit was completely over it by the next morning (men are kind of amazing that way).  And I of course felt his pain but it wasn’t as intense for me, as this band is really his creative child and he worked so hard for us to kick ass that night, and he’s also way more competitive than I am.  But knowing I had a pregnancy test looming when I returned home, and knowing how much heartache may still await me, it was hard for me to have perspective.  I mean, here I am, engaged in this enterprise that is SO unsure and SO precarious and expensive and frustrating, and there’s no guarantee of any of it working out, and every professional in the field gives you totally different advice, and everything online contradicts itself, and in the meantime money and time is running out by the minute.  And yet I’m in it, again, with no guarantee of success, the door of my remaining fertility sliding shut as we speak, AND I can’t even tell most of my closest friends about it.  Somehow losing a band battle just really didn’t seem all that frickin’ important. 

I think about my dance event often and what a gift it is to be able to run a business from home that’s your entire income, and how blessed I am.  But you know what?  I’ve suffered HARD for this event to succeed.  I faced down a scary lawsuit that put me in the red for five years.  I survived some very disturbing trends in the dance world and people actively attempting to discredit me and my event and ruin my business.  I survived 9/11, I survived this current recession which has sure taken a bite.  I save every receipt, spend days every year making sure my taxes are completely in order, save money when I can, spend when I have to, control my impulses (most of the time).  I put up with horrendous customer service nightmares, I hold people’s hands, I’m diplomatic when I want to rip people’s heads off.  So am I lucky I get to do this event and not work a crappy 9-5 job?  Yes, but I believe this event has made me suffer enough that I’ve earned it. 

I hope I get a happy ending to my choice mom journey and that when I do I’ll believe I’ve earned it.  I am for sure earning my stripes now, every day.  Every day when I get that adrenaline shot of terror that there’s something wrong with me, every time I find some new piece of info online that makes it looks like my chances are slim, every time I have to endure yet another friend getting engaged or pregnant on Facebook.  I hope when I do get that BFP that I can say, “Good!  I deserve this, damn it!!!”