Part 3 - Decision Time
In late April, we were scheduled for our eight-week ultrasound to check initial viability. The day before that ultrasound, her grand-grand-boss called her into a room and said something like, “You’re our pick for this position abroad. You have until the end of next month to decide if you’re in or out.” Addie responded with, “I’m about eight weeks pregnant and have an ultrasound tomorrow. We’ve never been cleared at this particular check before so there’s some tension for us. If that changes anything on your side, now you know.”
And then we had the discussion at home. We did a formal risk analysis (obviously…). We engaged dozens of family member and friends regarding the opportunity. We considered… is this crazy? As Phil Knight refrains in Shoe Dog: lead me from the unreal to the real.1
There were ultimately two logical branches: Bump B not healthy; Bump B healthy. The not healthy branch was easy. If a second straight pregnancy short-circuited, we’d be ready for a change of scenery. The healthy branch was much trickier. Were we spoiled, selfish assholes for taking a potential grandchild overseas? Were we entitled, naive idiots for expecting a medical system abroad to “just take care” of us? Would we ever be able to follow our feet home?2
We deployed tools, lost sleep, soul-searched. We engaged more friends and family. Ultimately, we highlighted four primary risks: health of Addie and Bump B, financial stability paired with my earning potential, family commitments, local communities. Layer on top of that whether or not we’d actually enjoy the place, and there was only one reasonable pathway forward: try on the place and see if it fit.3
So… away we went in the last week of May to explore. Upon our return, I put in my two week notice at work.