Nine, to be exact.  That's the current number of my rejection letters in my attempt to gain admission to a PhD program in art history.  The first round was somewhat of a trial run and consisted of only two applications.  I was happy to get on a wait list for one of the schools, but eventually, I was rejected from both programs.  I received one rejection via website one morning in March 2008, and found the rejection letter to the other program in the mail that evening.  I sat on the floor with that letter and let myself cry for about an hour.  Still, since I knew I wasn't greatly prepared for the application process, I figured that the rejections were a learning experience and I would do better the next year. 

My work on the second round of applications began in late spring, 2008.  I worked on several versions of my statement of purpose, quit my job as an event planner to pursue work and volunteer avenues that would look better on my resume and researched and contacted schools and professors that would be a good fit with my interests in institutional critique and psychoanalysis.  Luckily, I landed an internship at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago and a teaching position at my Alma mater, the School of the Art Institute of Chicago - both began in late August.  Everything was going along full strength and I had great optimism for that year's applications.  My wonderful husband and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary, and life looked good.  Granted, our budget was now stretched thin (my internship was unpaid and we all know how little teachers make) and I was exhausted from working non-stop and keeping up with my workout routine, but I was truly fulfilled and motivated.  A few weeks later we found out that I was pregnant.