Relocation Angst

The last time we did a major move I had major problems.

With the advantage of hindsight, I can see that it wasn't really just about the move. Issues with insomnia started months before we packed a bag; I had periods of hypochondriasis, and actually went to one of the university neurologists, convinced that I had ALS. He asked me point-blank if I had considered issues of stress in my life. "Stress, what stress?" I really thought I was OK. I could have, and should have, cast an eye over my previous two years' calendars: doctoral thesis completion and defense, spring 2001; back in med school, summer 2001, with numerous "on the road" rotations; got married summer 2002, but couldn't yet live with my husband due to my ongoing eduction; took boards and wrote fellowship applications fall 2002; finished med school and planned and executed move to Germany spring 2003. Then we got here, and I couldn't so much as buy toilet paper without help. My two-week crash course in German didn't seem to have taken. The apartment we had rented was absolutely bare: not so much as a lightbulb in there . . . including no cupboards or appliances in the kitchen. Our stuff was on a ship somewhere in the Atlantic and wouldn't arrive for weeks.

I think what I found hardest to deal with at the time was the enormous gulf between what I thought I should be feeling and what I actually was feeling. I mean, this was supposed to be a big adventure! I finally had the opportunity to be together with my husband! I had just gotten a prestigious fellowship! The move was even being paid for! . . . so why did I feel so rotten? This has probably been the only time in my life when counting my blessings made me feel worse rather than better--I knew that I was very, very, lucky to have what I had, but thinking about it just emphasized the not-rightness of my emotional state.

It took me over a year before I really felt as if I had my feet under me again. Of course it took months to improve my German and of course it also took awhile to make friends here . . . I can still remember clearly how stunningly gratified I felt the first time a colleague asked me over to her house for dinner and "real" conversation.

I don't think it will be nearly so bad this time, but I admit to feeling, well, somewhat apprehensive along with the excitement. I sometimes find myself reciting a list of "reasons not to worry": I know German much better now, our stuff will be coming the next day, not in two months, we have the kids and that's a great way to get to meet people, we heard there's a group of American and English expatriates in Biberach that meets on a regular basis, surely there's a "Krabbelgruppe" or something for mothers of babies I could join, a friend of mine told me that nearby in Ulm there's a group for working moms . . . not to mention that Heidelberg is less than three hours away, so it's not as if we could never get here to visit the people we know.

Of course these feelings are all normal, of course we will have some good days and some hard days at the beginning, of course starting over again somewhere new requires patience and fortitude. I just hope I can be fortified enough this time around.