Another grant post - but with an analogy!

I lied. I’m going to write about the grant again. It’s that or nothing though – I’m so very tired and the grant consumed my Thursday.

Plus, I’ve never seen the ending stages. In the past, I just handed off the science and let the admin people do their work. This time, since I apparently waited too long, I was quite involved with the details. I liked it.

I got to look over every printed page. Once I realized that our secretary was a perfectionist, I decided to allow myself similar freedom and picked apart every single piece of paper. It looked gorgeous by noon today. Stunning, really.

Then I made copies myself. Lovingly clipped each of the 6 documents together then took them to my desk to insert the color pages. Waited nervously for my face page from the grants office on campus. I know exactly where said office is located since I dropped the application off there yesterday. Pleaded for speed in the review and subsequent signing of the initial precious form. Then returned to the office to worry over the little sheet of paper. I needed it.

This morning found me proofreading letters – lovely, glowing letters from physicians and scientists who are beyond talented and impressive. I nearly cried.

It’s been a good experience, actually. Despite the stress and mental exhaustion, it was quite helpful to me. It made me consider my resources, develop a plan, make sure I was clear on where I was coming from and where I hoped to go. Plus, I started to feel like a princess at some point. Everyone deferred to me today because my grant was due. I got compassionate tilts of the head from some, encouraging pats on the shoulder and back from others. I enjoyed the attention and wishes for luck. Even better were the approving nods I received from the faculty members who took a quick look through my research proposal. “Not bad at all.”

The part I didn’t enjoy? Shockingly (seriously, get ready), it was an analogy. People referred to this grant – many people at several institutions – as a baby. My baby. I had to “give birth” to this document. Of all the analogies in the world, we picked this one? I mean, yes, you create this really cool thing, but it doesn’t come from 2 people. It comes from many, many people. I included 8 contributors in Key Personnel, have a mentor, 3 administrative staff members putting it together, 2 institutional signatures, 7 letters of recommendation. That’s one screwed up family system for my little grant.

And the process of completing it? While I’ve never experienced labor (and honestly don’t anticipate it eagerly or with great joy – it sounds pretty bad), I’m quite certain it’s much worse than finishing a grant of this magnitude. I mean, I got tired, but there was no excruciating pain. Or grossness. Every time I hear “giving birth,” I think of the junior high science video or the moment on TLC’s A Baby Story that I see before my brain screams “Change the channel. Oh, ewwww!” So while putting this application together was hardly pleasant, equating it to giving birth seems unfair and icky. I don’t like it.

And yet, staring at my huge stack of paper tucked in 6 binder clips, my pretty cover letter nestled on top, I felt a strong sense of pride and affection. Hoped my little grant met a very bright (and funded) future. I found myself smiling down on it.

At this point, the analogy falls apart though. Because what kind of mother puts her new creation into a FedEx box, leaves it with the other packages waiting for the last pick-up, then walks away? Whatever kind of parent that makes me, it only gets worse. Because after today, I have no plans to think of this grant until we get the scores in a few months.

But I do miss it a little. Like my iPod, it became a constant companion for the last month or so. While I wasn’t always working on it, there was always space in the back of my mind devoted to it. And now that mental energy has to find a new home. Luckily, the work that I’ve pushed aside for the last 3 weeks is desperate for some attention. Or maybe I’ll start writing something here that isn’t so very boring.

Whichever works. I guess we'll see.