MiM Mail: What happens to friends and family?

Mothers in Medicine,

I'm a pre-medical undergraduate from Boston, entering my junior year. I aspire to be an Emergency Medicine physician. I'm finished with my pre-medical coursework, and the next step is taking the MCAT this Spring.

For the last two years, I pushed through my studies, blissfully ignorant to how my future career path may be incongruent with my deepest desire in life: to have children. So I'm writing to you because I aspire to practice medicine, but I'm held back by the concern that the doctor-mom work-life balance may not be right for me. I close my eyes and picture my future: My time is divided between my family and my career. I'm laden with guilt for missing pieces on either end. I'm in a perpetual state of "rushed."

I've been hunting through the Internet, and it seems as though some women in medicine feel this way. I'm attempting to be a nonpartisan hunter, because in the past my confirmation bias has prevented me from considering all of the information important for my decision.

I recently came across this website, which lists the 10 things you need to give up when you become a doctor. To be honest, I was disturbed by number six:

6. Your desire to always put friends and family first
As a doctor your job usually takes priority and you simply cannot shirk your responsibilities simply because you have prior engagements of a personal nature. Over the years I’ve known many difficult situations including a colleague who had to turn down a role as best man for a close friend because nobody could swop his on-call weekend with him and the hospital refused to organise a locum to cover him. Apart from sickness or bereavement, your first priority will be to your profession. Your friends and family may find that difficult to understand at first. They’ll come round to it with time, especially once they delete your number.

OK, so the author is a bit brute with the final comment, but as a general idea, it's that on the priority list, your career in medicine trumps the important relationships in your life.

After reading this, I thought to myself, "Well, shoot." This makes me squirm. I know in my heart that I would never be able to put my career over my family, in a general sense in life. But then I think, if any career were to necessitate this, it's medicine. It should be number one because it can be life or death; it's a privilege and a commitment.

I bet when number six plays out in reality, the choice between them is theoretical and it's all about balance. But the author does provide a concrete example of choosing between the two (with wedding example, above), and in that case, would I be able to choose my job? So... number six moves me to deeply consider my career options.

I 'd like to ask you guys how you feel about number 6. Are you saying, "Yes, medicine requires a commitment that may harm relationships, more so than other careers" or "No, you don't have to choose being a doctor over being a mom, no more than you would with any other demanding career," or "I never feel as though one is of more importance to me than the other" or whatever it is - I'd love to hear it.

Thank you so much for your time, I'm so happy to have stumbled upon your website. You are all inspiring. Wishing you the best in your dual careers.

Love and blessings. J

My Mother’s Daughter

My mother is a doctor who started a solo practice in the 1970s when there weren’t many working mothers, let alone working mother doctors.  She worked tirelessly to establish her practice and then became one of the busiest primary care doctors in the area. I think she was happy with her decision to practice medicine but I know she has regrets about working full time.  She often told me that she wished she could have worked part time or taken off time while we were young.  When I started a family, her advice was to spend less time working and more time with my kids.  

I’ve taken her advice very seriously and have tried very hard to find a happy balance between work and mothering, but in many ways, I am my mother’s daughter.  I am a doctor.  I am a mother of three children.  I struggle with issues around work and balance and guilt.  But I am also very driven to succeed and my mother’s path may be a big contributor of that drive.   By witnessing her courage, strength, and perseverance, I knew that women could work and their kids would still turn out to be great.   

That’s why it’s so encouraging to see research that supports what I always knew – that the children of working moms are very likely to succeed.  

A few months ago, researchers from Harvard Business School published findings from a study where they found that daughters of working mothers were more likely to work themselves, have supervisory roles, and earn higher incomes compared with daughters of non-working mothers.  

This is exciting and affirming news for all us working moms.  And in some ways it's not so surprising.  When I think about my kids and who they will grow up to be, I often wonder what will motivate them, what will make them happy, and what will shape their future selves.  There’s no question in my mind that role models play a huge role in shaping their decisions, their paths, and their destinies.

As for my own mother, I shared this study with her and she wasn’t surprised by its findings.  But she still feels sad that she wasn’t always around after school and on the long days of summer and in the classroom as a volunteer.  Those feelings seem pretty universal and hard to shake.  

The good news is that she is now retired, has six grandchildren, and lots of time to enjoy them.  Plus she has three kids who are successful by any definition and who deeply love her and are grateful for her hard work and for the role model that she was to us.

A Little Gift To Take To Work

We just returned from a week's family vacation. The kids have been off from school, and Hubby has been off from work, so, we've all been together 24/7.

I have afternoon clinic on Mondays, and we dilly-dallied away the early Monday morning.

Finally, reluctantly, I packed my lunch bag, kissed Hubby and the kids goodbye, and set off on foot for the train.

My three-and-a-half-year-old daughter called out to me from an upstairs window: "Mommy! Mommy! MOMMY!"

I looked up from the driveway and yelled back, "Yes, honey?"

"Will you do me a favor, after work?" She says "favor" like "fay-vow" and "work" like "wowk".

"Of course, Honey! What is it you'd like?"

With adorable preschooler excitement, she stammered out, as loudly as she could: "Will you- will you- will you... I mean, after work, will you... please just come home?"

Oh, so, so adorable. So simple. I melted, I promised I would come home, directly home, and I kissed her on the head.

I kept remembering her sweet little three-year-old voice saying, begging, …will you please just come home?, and it kept me smiling all day long in clinic.

Guest post: Miscarriage

I thought I was over my miscarriage, but I’m not. It started when I wishfully wasted a home pregnancy test a few days ago (negative.) This past weekend I’ve been taking the Advanced Life Support in Obstetrics course, delivering rubber babies with shoulder dystocia and fighting back tears the whole way.

Let me start from the beginning. I’m 35 and just starting a family medicine residency. I’m newly married to a wonderful man; he will be joining me when he finds a job in the far away city where I moved for residency. I found out I was pregnant in May. It was my first pregnancy and we were overjoyed.

One month ago, I had my first prenatal visit at an OB/GYN practice in my new city. I went alone. I wore my favorite blue dress. I was happy and confident and looking forward to taking home images of my 8-week future baby.

The appointment started with an ultrasound. I wasn’t alarmed when Monica, the sonographer, asked to switch from a transabdominal to transvaginal view. No problem, I thought. When the imaging resumed, I asked Monica if she could calculate my due date. She paused for a second, and then said, “Well, I’m seeing some concerning things here.” The floodgates opened and I started crying. In the nicest way possible, Monica described the enlarged yolk sac and absent heartbeat. The embryo had died ten days earlier.

Through my tears I met the nurse practitioner who explained my options: since I was starting residency in just over a week, I chose surgery. I spoke with the physician, who booked my D&E the following day. Everyone asked me: where is your husband? (Florida.) Do you know anyone here? (No.) Who will be with you for the surgery? (I don’t know.)

OB/GYN offices are filled with pregnant women and their spouses, best friends, mothers and sisters. It hit me hard when I waited alone for my pre-op bloodwork, then for my Rhogam shot, surrounded by women who still had their babies. I felt their eyes on me, felt their pity. An hour earlier, I too had been smugly pregnant, thinking how elated my parents would be when I told them about their first grandchild.

My husband flew in the same day (I have never asked him how much his flight cost.) The D&E was uneventful; I had no pain after the surgery. We went out for steak that night; I had red wine and blue cheese, because I could. Because I was not pregnant anymore.

The past month has been a whirlwind of excitement, of new long white coats and responsibilities and stresses. Amongst the distractions, I haven’t grieved. But I remember something my physician said before the surgery. She said: “Miscarriages are very common. They’re the norm. But in our society, we don’t talk about them. I wish women talked about their experiences with miscarriage instead of grieving in secret.” And so that’s what I’m doing here. I want to tell you that I’m sad, that I’m angry, and that I’m not okay with what happened. I hope it helps me move on.

MiM Mail: Advice on starting med school with a long-distance relationship

Hi there future colleagues!

I am a long time reader of this blog, though so far I can't call exactly myself a Mother in Medicine - I am a 28 year old nontraditional student who is just about to start medical school one state away, with no kids. I have a wonderful, extremely supportive live-in boyfriend of 5 years who has been on this fun (-ish) journey to get into medical school every step of the way, though he will be starting business school this fall 8 hours away from me by car.

Our short- and medium- terms goal are to end up with summer internships in the same city next year and get engaged sometime after my second year/when he is done with business school. I will try my damndest to get some away rotations scheduled near him during my third and fourth year, and make every connection I can in my home state so we can ideally settle back here for residency, as most of his business opportunities are here (though really, who knows what will happen with the match). Eventually we would like kids.

As a type A, uber organized planner who is madly in love with this man, the uncertainty of a long distance relationship is quite scary. I am reaching out to this wonderful community to see if you all have any advice for me regarding 1) how I can set myself up for success in medical school to enjoy myself and eventually match well and 2) any tips for maintaining healthy long distance relationships.

Thank you in advance - I am honored and humbled to be entering into a profession with the inspiring women I see on this blog and I can't wait to hear your thoughts.

J

Feeling like the worst mom in the world...

My introduction post was mostly about how I get to know Mothers in Medicine, which was when I found out I was pregnant. I also talked about where I am today. I never talked about what happened in between those 2 and a half years.

So during those 2 and a half years, I went from first year radiology resident to fourth year radiology resident. I just took my boards last month!! (Ask me again in 1 month how I felt about it, which is also when I'll get the results.) My husband, big C, went from 4th year orthopedic resident to a 6th/chief orthopedic resident. He just graduated last month!! Currently, I started my first month of my last year of residency and my husband is actually, right now, taking his orthopedic boards. He'll be moving to the east coast in exactly 2 weeks to start his spine fellowship.

So basically, I'll be a single mom for a year. But what you don't know about me is that my little C has been with my parents in a city 1 hour away from our  city of training for the past 2 and a half years. That is how we did it. So your recent blog post Anita Knapp really resonates with me! It was an extremely difficult 2+ years. But given my husbands 80+ hour work weeks and my most difficult years of residency ahead (combination of both majority of my calls during my 2nd year of radiology residency and studying for radiology boards/multiple board review sessions during my 3rd year of radiology residency), we felt that this was what was best for little C. 

I have had my share of mommy guilt during this time. I questioned my decision all the time. I felt like a horrible mother. It definitely put a strain on my marriage with big C because who likes being around a negative and sad person all the time? But little C was my heart and soul and it just didn't feel right being away from her Monday to Fridays and some weekends. 

Well little C is all moved down. It's so funny how kids can be so resistant to change at times and also so easily adaptable. I took 2 weeks of vacation to help get her situated. In less than a week, it was as if she already forgot about her 2+ years with grandparents (much to my mom's dismay). During those 2 weeks, she and I attended her 2 week orientation at the pre-school associated with the university, which basically meant spending 1 hour a day for 2 weeks with her at the pre-school. That part went fine. In fact, the entire 2 weeks was awesome for our relationship. I got to just be her mom without even thinking about residency once. 

I thought the transition to pre-school would be easier. She attended part time pre-school during her last 5 months with grandparents almost as a preparation for what's to come. She had a hard 1st month but eventually grew to love it and was out the door to go see her friends as she would say.

However, she must feel like her whole world is upside down now. It's been almost 2 weeks into her new pre-school, which is obviously now full time and every day she cries and cries. Drop-offs are so painful. I spend the mornings just thinking about her crying little face screaming for mommy.

She refuses to eat at pre-school. She's potty trained at home but refuses to pee on the toilet at school. She also doesn't nap. When I go pick her up, she seems okay but I can't seem to shake it off that this is just a transition period. Is she ever going to adjust? Am I just the worst mother in the world? Was this a mistake? Was I being selfish by taking her away from the princess treatment that was given to her by her grandparents? 

I don't know if I can go back to the former life. I love picking her up. I love eating dinner with her. I love putting her to bed. I love that she runs over to me and wakes me up in the morning. But do I need her more than she needs me? Am I not able to give her what she needs? 

It almost feels foolish that I thought the mom guilt that I carried with me for those 2+ years since maternity leave would disappear once she lived with me. 

But right now, I can't help it. I'm feeling like the worst mom in the world yet again.

How am I going to survive once my big C goes to the east coast? 

Days likes this. Cutter's blog post comes to mind on whether this (as in medicine) is worth it? I simply say "no." 

Friendship

Last month I did a dermatopathology rotation, a really interesting subspecialty of pathology (and dermatology!). For both the pathology and dermatology residents who rotate on the service, it is probably the most laid-back and responsibility-light rotation we have... I felt like I finally had time and space to breathe after a few tough months.

My second week on service, I noticed a familiar face around the multi-headed microscope- a mom from day care, a dermatology resident! Our daughter (who just turned 2 last week, sniff sniff!!) goes to a day care our hospital owns, so all the parents are hospital employees- physicians, post-docs, etc. I am constantly lamenting to my husband how unfortunate it is that the parents don't know each other well because, understandably, all the doctors are rushing in and out during drop-off and pick-up... also, when kids are screaming and crying, it doesn't exactly feel like the right time to have a little chit chat! Her daughter is 3 months older than ours, and had been in the same infant and toddler classroom as ours...  I had seen her in passing maybe only once or twice but with only a smile and, "Hi."

We beamed at each other and waved, and as soon as sign-out was over we started chatting. I simply felt like the floodgates had opened, haha... I had found a kindred mommy-doctor-wife-woman spirit, and a burden over my heart had been lifted. Our similarities were uncanny, from getting married in a courthouse on their anniversary date (ours at 6 years, theirs at 4 years), to both of us nagging our husbands to stop smoking their incessant cigarette or two a day during times of stress. Finally, another psycho who is reluctant to get a babysitter (us only once, them just twice) because they genuinely want to just hang out together as a family, but also hates themselves for it haha. We also have in common crazy moms, resulting in chronic husband vs. in-law issues. Both of our husbands are equally ambitious and passionate. We are both in day care without extra help, and we talked about how we deal with weeknight routine chaos, fitting in studying, etc etc.

Over that week we overlapped on service, we talked. And talked. And talked. I don't know how long it's been since I've connected with someone like her. Unfortunately, she and her family are moving an hour away so that she can start a position as an attending. I hope we will make plans to see each other and get the girls together. But it reminded me of the power of female friendship, of something I didn't realize had been so sorely missed.

Attending Status: let's go!

I woke up to the sounds of the birds chirping and then “Mommy!” as my almost 4-year old tried to start his day at 6:45am. Quick detour for a potty-break and then promptly back in his bed because, “It’s still too early. Time for sleep.”

As I sit at our desks, I double and triple check that my Epocrates app is up to date so that I can quickly calculate drug doses. Today is my first official day as an Attending. I am returning to my dream health care system to work in the pediatric clinic I did my third year community pediatrics rotations in. The Attendings and many of the front desk staff remember me back when I was a medical student and they, like me, are super happy that I have returned.

We had an all-day orientation yesterday that was truly inspirational - yes, I’ve drunk the Koolaid as they say and am already one of those super happy people to work where I work. Providing care to children in our nation’s capital is truly an honor and one that I do not take lightly.

During times like this I refer back to my favorite book The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho). I was tested immensely in these last few years, but every second of the journey brought me closer to the realization of my dream. Every struggle. Every triumph. And I’m here. In this moment. Feeling the immensity of years of pre-medical studies, MCAT struggles, public health school, medical school, biochemistry challenges, clinical year excellence, pregnancy during USMLE Step 2, birth, and being a mother in medicine.

I am totally ready for this aspect of my journey. I vow to do great things. So let’s go. Let’s get it. Pediatric Attending status 2015! (happy dance, happy dance, happy-praise dance!)

See you in a month, Itty!

A couple of weeks ago, my husband, N, and I found out that we both started our intern year in the MICU.  We soon realized that this meant that we would almost never be able to pick our daughter up or drop her off at daycare. Considering it would be her first month ever in daycare, we were stressed!  Nanny interviews commenced, and we tried to ignore the impending financial doom that our first month with a paycheck would bring (due to the high cost of nannies). 

Soon thereafter, my mother-in-law suggested that we take our daughter, Itty, back home to spend the month with grandparents, aunts, and uncles.  Just for reference, we moved 15 hours away from “home, home” a month ago, and we have no family nearby.  Initially, I was resistant to the idea, as I couldn’t imagine a month without my Itty, but we eventually decided that it was probably the best idea for everyone.  Itty would get to see her extended family, who previously provided all childcare for her, and N and I would have a month to focus on our new roles at physicians.

She’s been gone for 4 days now.  While I was very sad during the first couple of days, I’m now realizing what a great idea it was.  Grandparents are happy, Itty is happy (at least for now, she doesn’t miss us too much), and we do not have to worry about her at all during a stressful day at the hospital.  I had forgotten what it was like to not have to think about picking her up, feeding her dinner, giving her a bath, getting her ready for bed, and putting her in bed.  Not to mention the middle of the night awakenings that still seem to happen although she is almost two years old.  Once you have a child, it is difficult to remember life without one.  

Part of me almost feels badly that I’m enjoying this “me” time so much.  I miss her tremendously but also feel that a significant burden has been lifted, at least temporarily.  Has anyone ever done anything similar?  This is probably the only time that we will ever send Itty away for a whole month, so does anyone have any childcare tips if we are ever in a similar situation again?  We were so worried about having multiple new caregivers in such a short period of time, especially with the limited amount of time that she would be able to see us anyway.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked myself, “How are we going to do this?  What did we get ourselves into?  Why did we move so far from our families?”.  However, I’m confident we’ll figure it out, little by little, with a lot of help from others (hint, hint!).

On another note, I was a physician today :)  Crazy!

Moving and credentialing are like oil and water

The last 3 months my husband O has been packing while I have been working on getting credentialed. His boxes are brown and filled with books and mine are checkie-boxes that I slowly work through. His boxes move us toward relocating while mine push us further and further away from our goal of saving money ($731 for DEA license, $130 for DC Controlled Substances License, the list goes on and on) but closer to my first job as a Pediatric Attending Physician.

The only one of us who has had fun packing is our almost 4 year old. His favorite activities include: throwing empty boxes, making forts out of boxes, and sliding on boxes. One day O and I heard a loud crash as he and his friends decided to pack his room; they did a pretty good job of placing all of his toys in a large box and then they proceeded to drag it into the hallway so he could move. It was endearing for about an hour until he began rummaging through it to get toys that he now decided he just had to have.

I am writing now so that I can take a break from packing another box of dishes. Packing dishes has helped me realize that we have a ton of dishes we don’t even use. I am purging these unused items because I refuse to pack them and I’ll be happier with less clutter. We have made so many trips to our local donation center I cannot even count them and each time I wonder where all of this stuff came from, while controlling my desire to “just hold on” to that thing I haven’t used in months but that I absolutely “need” (like the expensive Dr. Brown’s baby bottles, they are totally keepers!).

The last 3 months have shown me that working, while doing on-line orientation modules and handling credentialing just don’t mix. There isn’t enough time in the day. Thankfully, credentialing is all done and in less than 3 weeks I will be a full-fledged Attending Pediatrician! Unfortunately our movers come in 3 days and I now can’t seem to motivate myself to press on and I have no more credentialing to use as my excuse. It’s game time. Relocation here we come! But for now I’m just going to sleep.

Book Review: Burning The Short White Coat by Eve Shvidler, M.D.

I love reading books written by other doctors. Especially when I actually have time to read them. When I read the P.R. blurb on OB/GYN Eve Shvidler's Burning The Short White Coat: A Story Of Becoming A Woman Doctor, I knew I HAD to make time to read this book:

"What happens when Sex and the City meets Grey's Anatomy?… A medical chick-lit novel, Burning The Short White Coat exposes the personal battles that single women must overcome in balancing a demanding profession and the desire to find a trusting and loving relationship…"

I've been waiting my whole life for the female House of God. I was very excited to know: Could this be it?

Well, not quite. But, this light read is definitely engaging, funny, and fun.

The story follows relatable Elle Gallagher (and BFFs) through four years of medical school, and much romance. The action of the prologue draws in the reader (Overnight call! Crash c-section!). The first chapter, "The Gross Lab", is so gross, it's great. I was having formaldehyde flashbacks, myself. There are such nice touches here: the dissection of the penis by the retired surgeon is worth the price of admission.

But, the issues that plague this book also begin here: spelling and grammatical errors. Lots of them.

Now, I also write for publication, and I hate when some reader expresses extreme annoyance over a couple of typos. But there are ALOT of typos, misspellings, and incomplete sentences throughout this book, so many that even I was extremely annoyed. If I wasn't almost at the end of the book, I would have put it down at "introidus". Which appears twice. These errors make the book read more like a rough draft.

There is also heavy use of clichés, which I can forgive because at the same time, there is also plenty of fresh, unique material.

The chapter titled "Psych" is a fascinating little story-within-a-story featuring one of the creepiest cases I've ever heard. If what is described really happened, that's crazy disturbing. If it didn't, that's crazy good imagination.

One surprise for me is that my favorite character in this book isn't one of the female protagonists at all, it's the slightly immature but lovable surgeon Samy. We all know that attendings who hang out with medical students… well, that's just wrong. But this guy, he's complex, and he has some great lines. His advice to Elle on booty call vs. relationship girls is right on, and I'm not sure I've seen it done so well in a book that wasn't intended for teenagers.

The best part by far, though, was the chapter titled "Good Vibrations". I believe I had a similar hilarious conversation with my medical school BFFs. I would never have dared to write about it, though. I'm impressed!

In the end, I thoroughly enjoyed what was overall a refreshing, real-deal, feminine take on the modern medical school experience. (Yes, people, med students DO party that hard.) I just wish someone had run a spell check and an editor's eye over the text prior to publication.

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Hot off the presses! Addendum! As of 6/27/15 I have just heard from the author that she had already realized there were many errors in the original manuscript, and she put the whole thing through a copyediting process. There will be a new release in about 2 weeks from now, sans errors.

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As an aside, I have to say, the author's blog on Wordpress (https://burningtheshortwhitecoat.wordpress.com) is VERY good reading. Her articles and essays are enormously informative and entertaining. Moms in the audience, do yourselves a favor and read her post Where's My Orgasm from June 8, 2015.

Girls Don’t Cry

I have been following the response to Sir Tim Hunt’s incredibly sexist comments on women in science and thinking about how it relates to a working mother in medicine. If you haven’t heard of Tim Hunt, he is a Nobel prize winner who made headlines earlier this month for saying “…three things happen when [girls] are in the lab…You fall in love with then, they fall in love with you and when you criticize them, they cry” at a lunch for women journalists and scientists in Seoul.

Not surprisingly, the response has been overwhelming.  Some of my favorite tweets:

and…

and my all-time favorite…

But all joking aside, sexism still exists in science and medicine.  And as a working mom I’m very sensitive to issues of sexism, ambition, and differences between men and women.

This may be because I am constantly pulled in two directions (career versus family) and wonder if my ambition is ever questioned. On the one hand, I don’t want to draw attention to the fact that I am very much pulled in these two directions and must balance work and life.  But on the other hand, I do want to draw attention to this struggle to help support other women and help others understand decisions working moms need to make.

The fact is that I make very conscious decisions that incorporate both my work ambitions and my motherly ambitions. No, these decisions do not involve being distractingly sexy or crying in the lab but they do involve taking a slower and, sometimes, more convoluted paths.

I have rejected significantly higher leadership positions because they would squash my flexible schedule, I consciously avoid travel, and I am not willing to move my entire family for my career. To some of my male colleagues, these decisions may seem crazy, but, for me, these decisions are very calculated. 

I’m very conscious of burnout and hope to keep a level of balance that helps me work full time, find satisfaction in what I do, and keep me on an ongoing trajectory so that when I am no longer in the weeds of motherhood, I will still have interesting and meaningful career opportunities.

That being said, there are times when keeping the reins on my career is hard. I wonder whether I am being left in the dust when I see male colleagues make different choices and move up the ranks faster than me. And as a working mom, I never want to compromise other women by having my ambition questioned. 

But even with these doubts, I am incredibly proud of the difficult career decisions that I and every working mother have to make.  I know I will only have a short time with my kids at home and I want to cherish that time.  I’m sure there will be time in the future to turbo charge my career if I want.

In terms of Tim Hunt, I’m not sure if #distractinglysexy and #crybaby necessarily come up as issues for my career but ambition, choices, and timing certainly do. I think if we keep open dialogues and try to respect for each person’s decisions then I think we can push the conversation.  What do you think?

MiM Mail: Medical school timing

I have wanted to pursue medicine since first being exposed to it in nursing school. Throughout nursing school and my career as a nurse I have had a desire for the knowledge, skills, decision making and leadership that comes with being a physician.

I will be finishing my prerequisites in the fall and can take the MCAT in the spring with the potential of going to medical school in 2017 with an almost 3 year old and 16 month old. (I am currently 8 weeks pregnant!)

My question is, should I apply as soon as possible or should I spend a few years with my babies while they are still babies? Would it be easier to complete school if my wee ones are are at least potty trained?

A handful of physicians encourage me to do NP, CRNA or PA but I know I won't be satisfied as a mid level. On the other hand I'm not thrilled about all the time I'll be missing with my babies!

I'm 27 years old and my husband is very supportive. We could also get a nanny at any time if needed. Looking for some words of wisdom from those of you who have gone down this path! Thanks!

MIM Intro - It gets better and better

I finally did it.  I wrote a blog.  I have been dragging my feet for weeks!  You see, I had been told that I had stories to share, and I have always been a champion for mothers in medicine, but I have always told myself that I wasn't a writer.   I am going to change that this year.

I can't remember when I started reading some of the posts of the MIM blog.  When I was in  fellowship I had my first daughter,  and I used a breast pump behind a shower curtain in the small nephrology fellows office.  Often times, the other fellows (all male) would come in and talk to me over the rhythmic whirring of the pump while I was behind the curtain.  I have to give it to those guys - they were brave! And respectful.  I had a hard time making enough milk, mostly due to fatigue, and so I joined my first listserv, PumpMoms.  My online community experience had begun.  I learned so much, and felt so supported by other moms that I was elated to find the Mothers in Medicine website.  It does seem to be so very different being a mom in medicine rather than not.

Fast forward thirteen years.  I know, I wouldn't doubt that I am the oldest blogger on the site.  My oldest daughter just celebrated her 13th birthday.   I have three daughters ages 8, 11 and 13 and two bonus daughters ages 10 and 13 and a husband who is a pilot and not keen on blood at all.  Most people's jaws drop and then pat my husband on the back giving him kudos for living with so much estrogen!  We have two small boy dogs, but I have to say that they are  prissy dogs and don't add a whole lot of testosterone to the mix!

Many of you may be visiting this site trying to find peace or solace about your choices regarding when to get pregnant, how to breastfeed, find child care, whether to work full-time or part-time and  how to shape your career along the way to accommodate the ferocity of motherhood that can overtake you.  I have been there, struggled through all of those events, had many, many funny stories, buckets of tears, and loads of self-doubt as I worried it if were all going to turn out ok.

But here I am, thirteen years later, pretty well settled into a full-time position at an academic university with all these girls to raise.  I still have a lot of great stories, still cry from time to time, but I am reassured that all will be well if I continue to listen to my heart.  It has guided me pretty well along the way.

As part of my first blog, I wanted to share the story of my daughter's 13th birthday party.  It was a rare day.  Seems like all 4 of the other girls had something to do that day, as well as my husband - that NEVER happens.  My oldest had invited two of her best friends to shop, visit the makeup counter and head to dinner and a movie for the evening.  My presence was requested at the make-up counter as my daughter was nervous about approaching the sales lady for a makeover for the three of them.   I met them that afternoon, made the requisite introductions between the makeup artist and the girls and gave minimal instructions about "light" makeup.  I headed off to browse the jewelry counter and give her some space.  At the end, three lovely ladies emerged only slightly lovelier and we proceeded to dinner.

You know, once your daughter is thirteen, you struggle with the fact that she is slowly separating from you.  You know that this is necessary and unstoppable, but you so desperately want it to be like when they are little and want to always sit in your lap, fix your hair or climb into bed with you.  When your daughter is thirteen, you anticipate the  increasing possibility of eye-rolling, one syllabic answers to your questions and that your presence will be undesirable. So, I offered to sit at the bar so that my oldest could be with her friends alone.   Instead, my daughter said she really wanted me to sit with her and her friends.  What a rare opportunity to participate in her life and see her interact and engage with her friends.  I had the best time at dinner, and my fears of ugly adolescence were totally put out of sight.  My mother heart was overcome listening to the three of them talk about difficult relationships with girls at school, their occupational dreams, where they would like to travel, and what they thought of the charcuterie board we ordered.  It was an experience that I shall not soon forget, and one that I hope I can have with all the girls individually along the way.  She is growing up.  I cannot stop it, but I am going to enjoy the heck out of it!

 All those decisions about how much I was working, whether I was always present in the moment at the playground while answering calls from the office, was it ok to skip that meeting to go home early?, did anyone think I was crazy for pumping behind a curtain? It was one of those experiences where you tell yourself - I did ok.  Self-doubt getting smaller by the year.

The hug that keeps going

Growing up, in my dreams of my future family, I always had two children. Two seemed like the perfect number. We had two in my family, my brother and me. There was that nice 1:1 ratio of parent to child. I also grew up hearing stories from my mother of growing up with 3 siblings - and her feeling squeezed out sometimes as a child who was not the eldest, not the youngest, and not the lone son.

I keep that in mind as I raise our three children (10, 7, 4), always conscious of fairly doling out my attention and time. Whenever I am on-service (which means leaving earlier and getting home later each day), I sometimes notice an increase in "needy" behaviors especially in the younger two. There's more clinging, whining, and other attention-seeking antics. I am also particularly sensitive to the contentment of our middle child who is most prone to feeling left out. He occasionally gets into these funks where he is down on some quality he has - such as that he's the only child in our family with glasses, making him feel different and more unlovable, I guess. (Mind you, he is adorable with those glasses!)

Unfortunately, coincident with being on-service is feeling more worn out at the end of the day. The kids' bedtime becomes one last hurdle before glorious rest. That means no long books. No delay tactic tolerance.

One day, when I was feeling a QT deficit with our middle child, I decided to give him his good night hug and not be the first one to let go. Just to see.  I just hugged him and kept hanging on. After awhile, I felt his little arms loosen and relax, enjoying the moment so, but still hugging. The hug went on and on. I did not let go. Finally, I felt him let go first. His arms fell to his sides. He had a huge grin on his face, sated and sweet.

I've generalized the hug that keeps going to the other two children, just to be sure they are all getting enough hugs from mama. It's not every bedtime but sprinkled in there for good measure. Often it ends in a spurt of giggles (especially if accompanied by a neck nuzzle), but always I feel glad to have hugged so slow.