The end of a long road...

Well, at this point it's safe to say that I very likely have not made it to the final round of 50 finalists for the astronaut selection process. Darn it! I was so close, I just wanted to get to experience what it'd be like to be one of the final 50. They will spend a week going through more in depth interviews and medical exams. I think they're crazy for not calling me back! I still feel really good about how my initial interview went, which is the safety net for my self confidence that I'd hoped for :) It's hard to say why they didn't think I belonged in the top 50. I have a few thoughts of my own about it, but don't worry, none go back to the fact that "I'm not good enough." :) I know I was good enough to be there to begin with; perhaps those who were called back had just a little more, and that's OK too!

I know, I know, I'm as shocked as you ;) While I'm bummed, I'm not devastated, although I'd like to allow myself a few days of a healthy dose of depression (I'm still human!). Alas, I'm not alone. There are another 69 of us from the initial 120 having the same thoughts right about now. Here are a few things I keep thinking, starting from the beginning:

Considering I submitted my application in Jan 2012, this whole process has been very long. For over a year your mindset is about "still being in it" despite the inevitable end that will come for roughly 6,480 or so of us applicants, and that is a postcard from NASA saying "thanks anyway" AFTER the press release has gone out about the final 9-15 they have selected to be astronauts. In June of 2012 I learned I'd made the first cut (500 or so) and then in Nov 2012 I'd learned I'd made the next cut down to 120 that they wanted to interview (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!). And after that, the waiting game until the end of March, when I'm pretty sure they've made their last phone calls to invite the final 50. When you've been part of that waiting game for so long, there are a whole range of experiences...

You jump everytime your phone rings, starting in Feb 2012, hoping it's a NASA number that's NOT from your coworker. I was lucky enough to get one of those calls in November for the interview days I got to come in for in Jan, which only prolonged the phone hovering again until last week.

As you make it through each selection milestone, you feel like you've accomplished something major in your career, which gives you a year-long high. A very long time to be excited and hopeful, at the same time knowing not to get your hopes up. As you make it past one selection process milestone after the next, people start saying how great you are, coworkers start saying things like "what would we DO if you left us", and all of these niceties are something you probably wouldn't otherwise hear (when's the last time you have ever gone through a period of time when lots of coworkers told you how valued you are in the workplace?). Everyone should get the chance to hear talk like that.

As the word spreads as time goes on, people start looking at you a little differently. This could all just be in my mind, but have you ever had your dreams exposed in public, knowing full well that the potential outcome will be also be public (in my case, Nickelodeon public), and that that outcome has odds being in your favor of only something like 0.1%? Everyone knows that "astronaut" is truly challenging the odds, but when you're this far into the process, and you get closer and closer to the end, people start asking more questions. Regularly, and seriously. You get good at crafing a response that's deeply true yet hard to really commit to completely until you actually get the postcard, "No matter what happens next, I'm just so excited to have made it THIS far! It's all good." You start looking at the others around you and realize that some of them have made it this far too, in their past. In the same boat. And now they're NASA leaders. Great NASA leaders, but not astronauts. For varying reasons. And you deep inside you realize the odds are that you're going to be one of them. And it's not exactly bad. These are awesome people. They are just physical representation of The Odds.

Even though you recognize the odds are slim of getting selected as one of the 9-15 finalists, confronting your dreams this closely forces you to rethink a whole lot. Do I still want this astronaut thing? I'm a mom now, and this means something completely different. Can I still buy into the risk? How many people do you know have REALLY been confronted with their dreams? Say you've always loved to dance all your life...dance class, ballet, whatever... it's your passion, have you ever put yourself out there to be exposed and evaluated against really high competition? Have you been so close to it that you've had to reconsider how it might impact your life today (versus when you first created the dream)? The travel, the absence from the family, the time commitment to that passion. There's no laziness or complacency. Now add to that the risk of death being 1:60 (like the astronaut thing). How would you prepare your child, or your family for your own death or injury? How would you explain why it's important for you to be gone for long stretches at a time? I'm so grateful to have had the chance to stop and face all of these questions (and more) on a level I think not all parents may have the opportunity to think through. I'm able to answer these questions now, to myself, and to anyone who cares to ask, but most importantly, to our child.

This whole application process isn't exactly for the weak! Even for those of us who already have good, solid careers and fully know how this all could go. It gets the best of us ;) There's a whole lot about it all I'd like to get down into words but for a variety of reasons, this is about all I can get out :) This is probably as much as I'll put down about this whole awesome experience in "public" but I'm hoping I remember enough about it to convey it to Anna one day.

By the way, she's excited that I won't be leaving the planet for now ;)