For a few weeks, I’ve been looking into what it would take to become a lactation consultant. After all the challenges Ben and I encountered during breastfeeding and the help we received from the amazing LCs we came in contact with in the process, I really couldn’t think of anything I’d want to do more than to help people with one of the hardest things I had come across in becoming a first time mom.

Unfortunately, after researching the number of classes you have to take and the cost, I realized we just aren’t in a place right now for me to follow that path. I have neither the time nor willingness to be away from Ben that long and God knows we don’t have the money. So I began searching other options.

I came across the info for WIC Breastfeeding Peer Counselor almost by mistake. It’s a relatively new program and it just had it’s funding cut. After searching out as much info on it as I could, I squeeled at Eric about what a perfect job it would be for me.

After some digging, I found the number for the woman who runs the breastfeeding PC program in Colorado, who then lead me to the two counties that they have the counseling programs in, both counties were definitely NOT the counties I am in. As it turned out, both the women who ran their county programs were on vacation. I left messages and emailed.

(Wow, I’m really long winded. I apologize…but won’t be stopping anytime soon. I like detailed records, people. DETAILED!)

One called me back in about a week’s time to tell me she wasn’t hiring and didn’t think the other woman was either. She’d send me out an app and keep it on hand. I was bummed, but, heck, keeping an application on file is always a good start!

The woman from the other county turned out to not be the woman who ran the program. She forwarded my email onto the woman who did run the program…who was on vacation. How unlucky can I be?

A week or so later, I heard back from her. They were hiring. I nearly wet my pants. I also filled out my application and called the next morning for my interview, which went amazingly well. They said they’d get back to me by the following week (this week). I realized after leaving that I never asked the pay because honestly? I don’t care. This is a dream job for me. Pay me in kisses, I don’t care.

So this entire week I’ve been telling Eric, “I’m so bummed I didn’t get the job” because I am a pessimist. I don’t like getting my hopes up for something I’m not sure of. Which is the exact reason I haven’t posted a thing about it here. He kept saying, “There’s no way you didn’t get that job unless there was some sort of nepotism involved. And you don’t want to work for nepotists, do you?” He’s lovely. It hasn’t helped that I’ve had a bit of strep and no voice for the past few days so I’ve felt sorry for myself on top of it all.

About 3 hours ago, I got a call. I got the job.

I GOT THE JOB!

The moment I got off the phone, I screeched, “YAY!” at the top of my sick lungs and my once recovering voice disappeared once again. But who cares? I GOT THE JOB!!