Sometimes you just feel like a bad mom. Not that you're doing anything wrong, per se, but that everyone else is doing a better job of doing everything right.
Usually I'm pretty open and honest about my experiences, but today I just don't want to talk about it.
Instead, maybe you can do something for me, to cheer me up: Give me (at least) one example of something you've done recently or in the past that made you feel like a bad mom.
I'll put one of mine in the comments.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
MiM anatomy lesson
Mama: Where's your heart?
Daughter: (points to left chest)
Mama: Yes! And what does your heart do?
Daughter: PUMPS!
Mama: That's right honey! And what does it pump?
Daughter: (thought-collecting pause) BREAST MILK
Daughter: (points to left chest)
Mama: Yes! And what does your heart do?
Daughter: PUMPS!
Mama: That's right honey! And what does it pump?
Daughter: (thought-collecting pause) BREAST MILK
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Is this really news?
I turned on the computer today to see this from cnn.com. The headline for a companion article trumpeted "Bravo to Sheryl Sandberg for Leaving Work at 5:30!" For those who don't know, Sheryl Sandberg is the COO of Facebook and a frequent speaker on topics of women's equality, particularly in business. She's a dynamo--a Harvard business grad, who was Chief of Staff at the Treasury Department (at age 29), a VP at Google (at age 32), and all that before leaving to become COO of Facebook in her late 30s--as well as a mom of two young kids. She's more than impressive and likeable. She's frankly kind of irresistible. Journalists gush on and on about her. And it's hard not to get drawn in to the videos of her public speaking.
So it wasn't surprising to me to see yet another article about her on cnn.com today. But what made my jaw drop was reading this quotation from her in the article:
“I walk out of this office every day at 5:30 so I’m home for dinner with my kids at 6:00, and interestingly, I’ve been doing that since I had kids,” Sandberg says. ”I did that when I was at Google, I did that here, and I would say it’s not until the last year, two years that I’m brave enough to talk about it publicly. Now I certainly wouldn’t lie, but I wasn’t running around giving speeches on it.”
I was shocked. It wasn't that I found her leaving at 5:30 so shocking (ok, a little shocking...she IS the COO of one of the hottest companies in the world). It was that she was admitting it, publicly, on cnn.com of all places, where you can never ever take it back! And, almost immediately, I began to question WHY this should be: 1) shocking or 2) even news to begin with.
There are clearly some professional cultures in which leaving early--and by "early" here, I mean "while it's still light out"--is a no-no. Surgery, venture capital investing, and corporate law come to mind. Even in kindler, gentler fields, including many of the general medical fields or medical subspecialties, many of us leave work at an hour the rest of the world would consider normal or even a bit late--i.e. in time for dinner with our family--like fugitives with the sunglasses on via side exits, hoping to encounter no one. Why should this be?
Over the course of the day today, I have been thinking about the implications of Sandberg's self-outing for my own life. I have a part-time physician job, and I love it. It is a fantastic balance of academic/non-academic, clinical/non-clinical, and at 3 days per week, a rare gem of work/family life balance too. You'd think I would be advertising this job all over town. But I'm not. Sure, I have held court on this blog about the joys of working part-time before. I've even gone so far as to post instructions on how to get a part-time job as a mother in medicine. But none of those things really count in the way I mean here because they're anonymous.
As recently as a few weeks ago, I was giving a lecture to a group of trainees and junior faculty at a prestigious medical center. The person introducing me was briefly reviewing my bio aloud for the audience and said, "In 2006, she accepted her current position as..." He followed that up by saying that he didn't know how I had ended up in my current position, which is somewhat unusual, and suggested that I briefly elaborate on how I came to take that job and what I do there. I explained that the job enabled me to do all of the things I really enjoy about medicine--think about important questions in oncology and design trials to answer them, see patients, etc--without many of the things I find unpleasant about medicine like having to write grants or rush through patient visits. What I didn't say was that the job also offered me a ton of flexibility. I didn't mention that it's the norm where I work for doctors to work a flexible schedule, that it's the rule not the exception for doctors there to work from home a couple days per week, and that, importantly, my boss-to-be had not only been persuaded to make the position part-time for me but had continued to advocate for me in that regard over the ensuing six years, spontaneously reminding people to be sure to schedule meetings on one of my three work days and asking that they be moved when they had been inadvertently scheduled on one of my "mom" days, etc. I had a chance to stand up at a major medical center, where I had been invited to speak because I have achieved some degree of expertise and respect in my field, and out myself as a working mother doing what it takes to make it all work for my career and family. And I blew it. When someone made a comment to the effect that I had two full-time jobs (because my appointment is a joint ones that spans two institutions), I smiled politely and accepted the obvious unspoken kudos. I didn't say, "No, actually I have two part-time jobs that still add up to less than a full-time job." Why not?
Like most part-timers, I have busted my tail at my job for the last 6 years. This is probably the result of some combination of typical doctorly compulsiveness, genuine career aspirations, work ethic, and desire to "prove" to my boss that letting me start and remain part-time was a good choice, both for myself and for future employees. But the truth is that it also allowed me to remain productive enough that colleagues in my field at other institutions never questioned whether I was full-time, and I was just fine with that. I had a sense, rightly or wrongly, that if they knew I was part-time, I would be in some way discounted as not as serious or not as dedicated as the almost exclusively full-time male doctors, or even the full-time female doctors. I'd be in a class all my own, and not in a good way. To this day, many of the people I work with at my own institution have no idea that I work part-time! Almost none of my colleagues at other institutions know.
With the publication of the cnn.com article today, I had a realization that, although I am not now and will presumably never be the COO of a large corporation, I have to some degree arrived in medicine. Whether it's my age or my productivity or ideally both, I am officially mid-career. And I owe it to my colleagues, both those at similar places in their careers, but more importantly those who will follow in our footsteps, to talk explicitly about work/life balance and physician/parenting challenges and solutions so that we can finally walk out the main entrance and call out a cheerful goodbye to all we encounter. It's time to end the stigma of working parenthood. I have decided, it's time.
So it wasn't surprising to me to see yet another article about her on cnn.com today. But what made my jaw drop was reading this quotation from her in the article:
“I walk out of this office every day at 5:30 so I’m home for dinner with my kids at 6:00, and interestingly, I’ve been doing that since I had kids,” Sandberg says. ”I did that when I was at Google, I did that here, and I would say it’s not until the last year, two years that I’m brave enough to talk about it publicly. Now I certainly wouldn’t lie, but I wasn’t running around giving speeches on it.”
I was shocked. It wasn't that I found her leaving at 5:30 so shocking (ok, a little shocking...she IS the COO of one of the hottest companies in the world). It was that she was admitting it, publicly, on cnn.com of all places, where you can never ever take it back! And, almost immediately, I began to question WHY this should be: 1) shocking or 2) even news to begin with.
There are clearly some professional cultures in which leaving early--and by "early" here, I mean "while it's still light out"--is a no-no. Surgery, venture capital investing, and corporate law come to mind. Even in kindler, gentler fields, including many of the general medical fields or medical subspecialties, many of us leave work at an hour the rest of the world would consider normal or even a bit late--i.e. in time for dinner with our family--like fugitives with the sunglasses on via side exits, hoping to encounter no one. Why should this be?
Over the course of the day today, I have been thinking about the implications of Sandberg's self-outing for my own life. I have a part-time physician job, and I love it. It is a fantastic balance of academic/non-academic, clinical/non-clinical, and at 3 days per week, a rare gem of work/family life balance too. You'd think I would be advertising this job all over town. But I'm not. Sure, I have held court on this blog about the joys of working part-time before. I've even gone so far as to post instructions on how to get a part-time job as a mother in medicine. But none of those things really count in the way I mean here because they're anonymous.
As recently as a few weeks ago, I was giving a lecture to a group of trainees and junior faculty at a prestigious medical center. The person introducing me was briefly reviewing my bio aloud for the audience and said, "In 2006, she accepted her current position as..." He followed that up by saying that he didn't know how I had ended up in my current position, which is somewhat unusual, and suggested that I briefly elaborate on how I came to take that job and what I do there. I explained that the job enabled me to do all of the things I really enjoy about medicine--think about important questions in oncology and design trials to answer them, see patients, etc--without many of the things I find unpleasant about medicine like having to write grants or rush through patient visits. What I didn't say was that the job also offered me a ton of flexibility. I didn't mention that it's the norm where I work for doctors to work a flexible schedule, that it's the rule not the exception for doctors there to work from home a couple days per week, and that, importantly, my boss-to-be had not only been persuaded to make the position part-time for me but had continued to advocate for me in that regard over the ensuing six years, spontaneously reminding people to be sure to schedule meetings on one of my three work days and asking that they be moved when they had been inadvertently scheduled on one of my "mom" days, etc. I had a chance to stand up at a major medical center, where I had been invited to speak because I have achieved some degree of expertise and respect in my field, and out myself as a working mother doing what it takes to make it all work for my career and family. And I blew it. When someone made a comment to the effect that I had two full-time jobs (because my appointment is a joint ones that spans two institutions), I smiled politely and accepted the obvious unspoken kudos. I didn't say, "No, actually I have two part-time jobs that still add up to less than a full-time job." Why not?
Like most part-timers, I have busted my tail at my job for the last 6 years. This is probably the result of some combination of typical doctorly compulsiveness, genuine career aspirations, work ethic, and desire to "prove" to my boss that letting me start and remain part-time was a good choice, both for myself and for future employees. But the truth is that it also allowed me to remain productive enough that colleagues in my field at other institutions never questioned whether I was full-time, and I was just fine with that. I had a sense, rightly or wrongly, that if they knew I was part-time, I would be in some way discounted as not as serious or not as dedicated as the almost exclusively full-time male doctors, or even the full-time female doctors. I'd be in a class all my own, and not in a good way. To this day, many of the people I work with at my own institution have no idea that I work part-time! Almost none of my colleagues at other institutions know.
With the publication of the cnn.com article today, I had a realization that, although I am not now and will presumably never be the COO of a large corporation, I have to some degree arrived in medicine. Whether it's my age or my productivity or ideally both, I am officially mid-career. And I owe it to my colleagues, both those at similar places in their careers, but more importantly those who will follow in our footsteps, to talk explicitly about work/life balance and physician/parenting challenges and solutions so that we can finally walk out the main entrance and call out a cheerful goodbye to all we encounter. It's time to end the stigma of working parenthood. I have decided, it's time.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
back to work
Comparing maternity leaves and deeming one the all-out winner feels a bit like comparing the children themselves. I am back at work after my second leave and feeling reflective on what has been the best three months of my life. The same cannot be said of my first leave, but I think I can make a pretty good argument that it was extenuating circumstances unrelated to child A or B that resulted in a very different experience.
First, I wasn’t interviewing for fellowship. As someone accustomed to multitasking long before mommyhood, I mistakenly thought I’d prepare for interviews in the few weeks after my daughter was born. Not surprisingly, this ended up not being a poor plan and I spent the interview season in a state of frazzled exhaustion. In retrospect I wished I had contacted each program, explained the situation, and asked if they could arrange a different day for me to interview while I was still pregnant. I don’t know if they would have agreed, but it never occurred to ask.
As if the pressure of interviewing weren’t enough, the perpetually drunk and/or high man who lived above our apartment flooded us when our daughter was five weeks old. Our apartment was uninhabitable for three weeks, a period during which we were set up with some of our belongings in an apartment close-by. I had to deal with the agents from our insurance company, his insurance company, and our property manager, as well as itemize and dispose of everything that was ruined.
I was determined that this time things would be different. Obviously there was nothing we could have done about some idiot who decided to make our apartment into a rainforest, but I would make a concerted effort to avoid multitasking if it meant making life more stressful. Formal baby announcements? I decided a Facebook pic was good enough. Baby scrapbook? He doesn’t have one. (Some people are good at the scrapbook thing and enjoy it. I’m not and found it yet another source of stress). Thank goodness I didn’t have any interviews. I told family and friends that if they wanted to see the baby, they had to come to us. I decided to expect very very little of myself on a day-to-day basis.
I am not someone who gets bored easily, so spending an entire day under the weight of my newborn son was pretty close to heaven. I did a lot of reading, writing, and listening to books while pushing the stroller. Dinners were simple.
And I just feel better about the time and attention my son got as compared to what I gave my daughter.
But life moves forward and it is time to get back to work. As a side note, I thought the comment thread after Fizzy’s 4/11 post was fascinating. I guess the question of “how much time is enough” is pretty mommy-and-baby specific. I myself would love a few more weeks, but I am far from dreading my return.
So lets hear it, ladies – the good and the bad of going back to work. What you did and did not miss about maternity leave.
I’ll get it started-
Looking forward to
More frequent adult conversations. Yes, I miss them.
Being able to eat, drink, check email, and use the restroom on my own schedule
Less back pain
Wearing normal clothing
Eating in the seated position while using both a knife and a fork
Screaming, red-faced men? Not as likely to be my problem
Not looking forward to
Pumping. As a resident I once spilled 4 oz of breast milk on myself at 2am. Arg.
Call nights and weekend workdays
The pager
The everyday drags of medicine that have nothing to do with good patient care
Commuting
I will miss
Being present for every milestone (Gurgling! He gurgles! Brilliant)
Long mid-day naps under a heavy newborn
Blogging! (as frequently…)
Planning the week’s meals around the CSA box’s arrival
Walking my daughter to school in the morning
Mommy and me ballet (on hold at least until the summer)
Lunch with my husband, who works at home
I will not miss
Spending the entire day with no cause to wear a shirt. This gets old.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Which comes first, the pet (companion animal) or the child (companion human)?
Most MiM's probably consider themselves mothers to human babies, toddlers, teens, or to grown children. But a MiM might also be "mother" to a companion animal, i.e. to a pet.
Which did you (you alone or you and your partner/spouse) have first?
The pet as practice for a kid?
The kid as practice for a pet?
Some upsides and downsides either way. Can't learn to breastfeed (or pump) with your pet, but can learn to be responsible, to love a helpless being, to nurture, to teach/train/grow up another living lovable animal.
Toilet training <-----> litter box
Diaper changing <-----> pooper scooper
Taking for a walk <------> taking for a stroll, and then alas those first steps!
Doggy day care <-----> child care
The challenges and triumphs. The shared responsibilities with spouse. The work-family balance. The feeding, sleep training, getting up early, staying up late, clipping their nails, bathing. Not sure if anyone reads to their pet, like they would to a child, but could certainly sing to either!
Taking them to the vet/pediatrician (the two are periodically confused, for that matter). Does a MiM do some of the medical care for their own pet like they might for their own child?
We had our children first, and then (at the daily, no make that TID urging of daughter) brought a bunny rabbit from the local humane society into our house. Was not even a difficult transition (the more the merrier) and quite a learning, loving, sharing experience for us all. The bunny eats better than the daughter (way more kale, greens, carrots). We don't attempt to provide vet/medical care for our bunny (not qualified!) and are recognizing the importance of primary care. Son and daughter aren't quite sure (it changes day to day) if they are "mother and father" to our bunny, or big siblings to the little guy.
Which did you have first, and why?
Which did you (you alone or you and your partner/spouse) have first?
The pet as practice for a kid?
The kid as practice for a pet?
Some upsides and downsides either way. Can't learn to breastfeed (or pump) with your pet, but can learn to be responsible, to love a helpless being, to nurture, to teach/train/grow up another living lovable animal.
Toilet training <-----> litter box
Diaper changing <-----> pooper scooper
Taking for a walk <------> taking for a stroll, and then alas those first steps!
Doggy day care <-----> child care
The challenges and triumphs. The shared responsibilities with spouse. The work-family balance. The feeding, sleep training, getting up early, staying up late, clipping their nails, bathing. Not sure if anyone reads to their pet, like they would to a child, but could certainly sing to either!
Taking them to the vet/pediatrician (the two are periodically confused, for that matter). Does a MiM do some of the medical care for their own pet like they might for their own child?
We had our children first, and then (at the daily, no make that TID urging of daughter) brought a bunny rabbit from the local humane society into our house. Was not even a difficult transition (the more the merrier) and quite a learning, loving, sharing experience for us all. The bunny eats better than the daughter (way more kale, greens, carrots). We don't attempt to provide vet/medical care for our bunny (not qualified!) and are recognizing the importance of primary care. Son and daughter aren't quite sure (it changes day to day) if they are "mother and father" to our bunny, or big siblings to the little guy.
Which did you have first, and why?
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Worked a day in her life
I'm sure some of you have heard the recent "gaffe" by Democratic strategist Hilary Rosen. When Mitt Romney commented that his wife Ann is his connection to women in this country, and she said that they are most concerned about the economy, Rosen responded by saying the following:
"His wife has actually never worked a day in her life.... she’s never really dealt with the kinds of economic issues that a majority of women in this country are facing in terms of how do we feed our kids? How do we send them to school? And why we worry about their future?"
The Republicans have jumped on this comment as anti-SAHM and even anti-women, and the Democratics have distanced themselves from it and apologized. Rosen was forced to apologize.
Am I the only one who feels that Rosen's comments were incredibly true? I know Ann Romney has dealt with serious health issues and I have nothing against her, but I find it very hard to believe she has anything in common with 99.9% of women in this country, including SAHMs. I mean, how many SAHMs have housecleaners, cooks, gardeners, nannies? (If the Romneys have none of these things, I apologize, but I'm guessing they do. I mean, I would if I had that kind of money.) Most SAHMs are alone all day taking care of their kids, and likely have to economize more than anyone, living on a single income.
Hilary Rosen, on the other hand, is a mom who works full time, and I feel her frustration of having her needs "understood" by a multimillionaire.
In Rosen's apology, she said: "Let’s declare peace in this phony war and go back to focus on the substance."
Very true. I'm really beginning to like this woman.
(Apologies for a somewhat political entry, but this is about being disappointed in both parties. Anyway, it's a Saturday morning, so nobody is reading anyway.)
"His wife has actually never worked a day in her life.... she’s never really dealt with the kinds of economic issues that a majority of women in this country are facing in terms of how do we feed our kids? How do we send them to school? And why we worry about their future?"
The Republicans have jumped on this comment as anti-SAHM and even anti-women, and the Democratics have distanced themselves from it and apologized. Rosen was forced to apologize.
Am I the only one who feels that Rosen's comments were incredibly true? I know Ann Romney has dealt with serious health issues and I have nothing against her, but I find it very hard to believe she has anything in common with 99.9% of women in this country, including SAHMs. I mean, how many SAHMs have housecleaners, cooks, gardeners, nannies? (If the Romneys have none of these things, I apologize, but I'm guessing they do. I mean, I would if I had that kind of money.) Most SAHMs are alone all day taking care of their kids, and likely have to economize more than anyone, living on a single income.
Hilary Rosen, on the other hand, is a mom who works full time, and I feel her frustration of having her needs "understood" by a multimillionaire.
In Rosen's apology, she said: "Let’s declare peace in this phony war and go back to focus on the substance."
Very true. I'm really beginning to like this woman.
(Apologies for a somewhat political entry, but this is about being disappointed in both parties. Anyway, it's a Saturday morning, so nobody is reading anyway.)
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
3 Months Isn't Enough!
Three months is the standard maternity leave in the U.S. Most states will give 12 weeks of family leave, paid or unpaid (often unpaid). A lot of women, especially those in medicine, especially those in medical training, take less. *raises hand*
The reasons women go back to work very early include:
1) Loss of income
2) Fear of missing training/schooling
3) Pressure from peers
4) Fear of loss of job
Some women will cite "boredom" as a reason for going back to work early, but I honestly don't believe that if all the other factors were eliminated, they would make the same choice.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say that three months isn't enough. I'm not the kind of woman who wants to stay home indefinitely, but three months is just way too short. Six months is more like it.
Here's why:
1) Unless you have an amazing support system, you're still a mess at three months. Yes, your baby is supposed to sleep through the night at this point, but did you know that "sleeping through the night" is actually defined as sleeping five hours in a row? And that humans should be getting at least eight hours of sleep per night? So unless you're a dolphin or something, you're waking up at least once per night. You're not even close to functioning at full capacity, likely making lots of mistakes.
2) In all honesty, having done it myself, I feel like three months is too young for a baby to be in daycare. Babies that age need a lot of attention and it's so pathetic how they just lie there and can't really interact on their own. By six months, they're sitting up and almost crawling, so it's not so bad. Plus daycare is a vector for disease that their immature immune systems can't handle as well, so you're guaranteed to get lots of "pick up sick kid" calls, which further decreases your work reliability. Of course, a lot of women opt for a nanny, but that's its own set of problems.
3) The recommendation is to give breastmilk exclusively for the first six months, but that is no easy task to accomplish when you're working full time. It either puts even more strain on your employment or causes you to give up.
4) I personally felt like I wasn't emotionally ready at three months to leave the baby. Maybe that's not a good reason. Or maybe it's the only good reason.
I guess I only came up with four reasons, but I think they're four really good reasons. Unfortunately, the reasons for going back early are even more compelling.
The reasons women go back to work very early include:
1) Loss of income
2) Fear of missing training/schooling
3) Pressure from peers
4) Fear of loss of job
Some women will cite "boredom" as a reason for going back to work early, but I honestly don't believe that if all the other factors were eliminated, they would make the same choice.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say that three months isn't enough. I'm not the kind of woman who wants to stay home indefinitely, but three months is just way too short. Six months is more like it.
Here's why:
1) Unless you have an amazing support system, you're still a mess at three months. Yes, your baby is supposed to sleep through the night at this point, but did you know that "sleeping through the night" is actually defined as sleeping five hours in a row? And that humans should be getting at least eight hours of sleep per night? So unless you're a dolphin or something, you're waking up at least once per night. You're not even close to functioning at full capacity, likely making lots of mistakes.
2) In all honesty, having done it myself, I feel like three months is too young for a baby to be in daycare. Babies that age need a lot of attention and it's so pathetic how they just lie there and can't really interact on their own. By six months, they're sitting up and almost crawling, so it's not so bad. Plus daycare is a vector for disease that their immature immune systems can't handle as well, so you're guaranteed to get lots of "pick up sick kid" calls, which further decreases your work reliability. Of course, a lot of women opt for a nanny, but that's its own set of problems.
3) The recommendation is to give breastmilk exclusively for the first six months, but that is no easy task to accomplish when you're working full time. It either puts even more strain on your employment or causes you to give up.
4) I personally felt like I wasn't emotionally ready at three months to leave the baby. Maybe that's not a good reason. Or maybe it's the only good reason.
I guess I only came up with four reasons, but I think they're four really good reasons. Unfortunately, the reasons for going back early are even more compelling.
Monday, April 9, 2012
The One Question I Won't Answer
As I looked at my screen to check which patient
was next, seeing her name made me smile.
The patient was a delight. I had delivered her
first baby two years ago, an adorable baby girl with curly blond hair and rolls
on her thighs. The patient pushed like a champ, but despite her efforts, her 10
pound bundle of joy entered this world through a low transverse abdominal
incision.
She was newly pregnant with baby number #2.
A perfect flutter of a heart beat was seen on the
ultrasound, and all was good.
“Doc, do you think I should try for a
VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section) or have a planned c-section this time?”
she inquired, as we finished up with the usual questions.
I carefully reviewed the risks and benefits of
each, encouraging her to weigh which option would be best for her.
As I finished, I noticed she was pursing her lips
in anticipation of a question that she could barely contain.
“But Doc,” she asked smugly, like a
jeopardy contestant who knew they had the right answer, "What would you do
if it were YOU?"
The favorite question. I smiled and leaned back
on my rolly stool.
“Nope.” I said as I shook my head back
and forth with a smile, "I don’t answer that one.”
Somewhere there has to be a Readers Digest
Article, ‘Top Ten Questions to Ask Your Doctor’ and this is probably #1, based
on the number of times that I have heard it.
Initially, when I started practicing and my newly
board certified brain was bursting with memorized textbook knowledge and
randomized controlled trials, I would fall for this trick. I would rattle off
my personal opinion on such matters. Because obviously, I knew best.
No, I personally wouldn’t VBAC, but sure, you go
right ahead.
It didn’t take me long in practice to
realize that every women is unique. I was biasing these women with my personal
opinion on issues that really, I had no business discussing.
I am not saying I don’t give advice. Of course I
do, I am a doctor. I give my best medical recommendation in all
situations. However, I do not give patients my honest, personal opinion
of what I would do in their specific situation, because I am not them.
And I am not in their situation.
In obstetrics there are multiple
situations when women really need to decide for themselves:
VBAC vs. C-section
Natural vs. epidural
Circumcision vs. no circumcision
These are just a few of the very personal
decisions that women need to make for themselves. Options that should NOT be
decided by their moms, NOT by their friends and definitely NOT by me.
Is this a question you answer?
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
When breastmilk isn't best
That's right, I said it. Breastmilk isn't always best.
I always considered myself to have a very healthy attitude about breastfeeding. I set a goal for myself to do it for a year, but was willing to occasionally supplement with formula. And when women tell me they want to breastfeed, I try to offer practical tips, including telling them not to stress if it doesn't work out.
But recently, I've realized that my attitude about breastfeeding is far from healthy.
Ways you know you have an unhealthy breastmilk obsession:
--You have passed up a chance to do something actually enjoyable in order to pump
--Your baby is 6+ months and you are still pumping
--...even though it means you leave work later and see your baby less
--Your freezer contains more milk than food
--You have fed your baby breastmilk that might have been going stale instead of fresh formula
--You make breastmilk bottles with less milk than you think your baby will drink so none of it will get "wasted"
--You feel sad/angry when the baby doesn't drink all the milk in a bottle because it is "wasted"
--You have given up sleep to pump
--You have given up sleep to keep your baby from getting a single bottle of formula
--You think formula smells bad
--When your baby does get formula, you feel guilty
--Even though you pretend not to, you secretly judge other women who don't breastfeed for at least a full year
Is this healthy? Is it necessarily in my baby's best interests? I'd say it's often very clearly against my baby's interests, actually.
The way I finally realized this might be a problem was that recently I had an issue with my pump equipment. I found some old crud on the... yellow thing the milk filters through (OK, I don't know what any of the equipment is called). I washed it daily but apparently didn't completely dismantle it properly. I worried that all the milk I had pumped was tainted. Two months worth, about 300 ounces. And I started to panic.
I started to plan: No more skipping pumping sessions. Maybe start pumping again on weekends. Somehow I had to replenish all that lost milk.
That's when I realized that I was being completely ridiculous. My baby is almost a year old and the winter is over... so what if she got a couple of months of formula? Would that really be so harmful? Would it be harmful AT ALL? In fact, might it even be better to give fresh pumped milk and formula, rather than all frozen milk?
(By the way, the above is a great reason never to use donated breast milk that isn't well screened.)
Anyway, I emailed my pediatrician's office and they said I didn't have to throw out all that milk. But part of me still thinks I should, just to cut the chains (and be safe). I haven't decided yet, but I've decided I'll be okay with it either way.
I always considered myself to have a very healthy attitude about breastfeeding. I set a goal for myself to do it for a year, but was willing to occasionally supplement with formula. And when women tell me they want to breastfeed, I try to offer practical tips, including telling them not to stress if it doesn't work out.
But recently, I've realized that my attitude about breastfeeding is far from healthy.
Ways you know you have an unhealthy breastmilk obsession:
--You have passed up a chance to do something actually enjoyable in order to pump
--Your baby is 6+ months and you are still pumping
--...even though it means you leave work later and see your baby less
--Your freezer contains more milk than food
--You have fed your baby breastmilk that might have been going stale instead of fresh formula
--You make breastmilk bottles with less milk than you think your baby will drink so none of it will get "wasted"
--You feel sad/angry when the baby doesn't drink all the milk in a bottle because it is "wasted"
--You have given up sleep to pump
--You have given up sleep to keep your baby from getting a single bottle of formula
--You think formula smells bad
--When your baby does get formula, you feel guilty
--Even though you pretend not to, you secretly judge other women who don't breastfeed for at least a full year
Is this healthy? Is it necessarily in my baby's best interests? I'd say it's often very clearly against my baby's interests, actually.
The way I finally realized this might be a problem was that recently I had an issue with my pump equipment. I found some old crud on the... yellow thing the milk filters through (OK, I don't know what any of the equipment is called). I washed it daily but apparently didn't completely dismantle it properly. I worried that all the milk I had pumped was tainted. Two months worth, about 300 ounces. And I started to panic.
I started to plan: No more skipping pumping sessions. Maybe start pumping again on weekends. Somehow I had to replenish all that lost milk.
That's when I realized that I was being completely ridiculous. My baby is almost a year old and the winter is over... so what if she got a couple of months of formula? Would that really be so harmful? Would it be harmful AT ALL? In fact, might it even be better to give fresh pumped milk and formula, rather than all frozen milk?
(By the way, the above is a great reason never to use donated breast milk that isn't well screened.)
Anyway, I emailed my pediatrician's office and they said I didn't have to throw out all that milk. But part of me still thinks I should, just to cut the chains (and be safe). I haven't decided yet, but I've decided I'll be okay with it either way.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Kicking My Own Butt: 2 Months, 20 Pounds Lost
So here I am, an Internist and a mom, with a 3 month old baby girl and a 22 month old toddler boy, and with all that there is plenty of fodder for writing. All the priceless, precious wacky and aggravating moments that make up parenthood; all the touching, challenging, annoying moments that are doctoring. That's why we write, right? There's just SO MUCH.
But today, this is a simple update on my own journey back to my own body. Two babies in less than two years (plus a bit of an addiction to really dark chocolate) put alot of extra weight on me. I fell off my own fitness wagon. My runner's body gave way to... Obesity.
At 4 weeks postpartum with Babygirl, I realized I was at BMI 30. I kind of freaked out. I started a modified South Beach Diet. I lost alot of weight really fast, I think because I was breastfeeding. Then, when Babygirl was 6 weeks old, my husband was hospitalized with diverticulitis for a week. My plan went by the wayside. There were many days of like, Cheerios for dinner. My breast milk dried up. We went into Survival Mode.
Now, he's fine, I'm back at work, and life goes on, I picked up the free weights again. I started running: 1, 2 miles. Today, I ran 3 1/2 miles. Whoo-hoo!!!
And, even with my schedule and the kids, I have managed to lose 20 pounds in 2 months. I am now at BMI 27 (I'm pretty short.) It's hard, damn hard, but I can't give in to excuses or laziness. (Well, maybe sometimes...)
But if I expect to see change, I have to do the work. That means making myself get up at 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday to go for a run BEFORE the kids wake up. And taking the time to do abs work before going to bed. And planning meals: buying the healthy food, packing it up for myself the night before an early office day. It means resisting desserts. Most of the time.
So, while I am not perfect at all of this, I am persisting. My goal is to lose 20 more pounds, to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I find myself empathizing with my patients. Commiserating. Coaching.
So much of my work with patients is in trying, desperately trying, to help people help themselves to get fit. If I can use myself as an example, I will. I know how it is, I'm living it.
I can share with patients about how it's tempting to declare "Diet over!" after giving in to a little indulgence. But this is a HUGE pitfall. I'll talk with patients about how, for me recently, one chocolate-dipped strawberry led to another... and could have led to more and more, but I physically got up from the table and got it back together, and now am seeing results. I'll talk about the merits of hot herbal tea after dinner in lieu of dessert; the handiness of packaged mozzarella cheese stick snacks; the necessity of Truvia.
I can share with patients how hard it is to get in exercise when you work and have kids. How I need to make it a priority, and stay on top of it. Can't go to the gym? Me neither. I haven't re-joined my gym, because I'm not sure I would ever get there. Try running. Jumping rope is excellent exercise. I also discovered hundreds of free fitness videos On Demand. I do abs work at night before bed. I run after my toddler and lift him like weights. And there are stretches of days when I don't move much, and that's OK. It's tempting to declare, Game Over. But that's a common error. Just Keep Going, I tell people.
And I will keep going. Persisting, Resisting. Eyes on the prize.
Next week: 4 miles.
But today, this is a simple update on my own journey back to my own body. Two babies in less than two years (plus a bit of an addiction to really dark chocolate) put alot of extra weight on me. I fell off my own fitness wagon. My runner's body gave way to... Obesity.
At 4 weeks postpartum with Babygirl, I realized I was at BMI 30. I kind of freaked out. I started a modified South Beach Diet. I lost alot of weight really fast, I think because I was breastfeeding. Then, when Babygirl was 6 weeks old, my husband was hospitalized with diverticulitis for a week. My plan went by the wayside. There were many days of like, Cheerios for dinner. My breast milk dried up. We went into Survival Mode.
Now, he's fine, I'm back at work, and life goes on, I picked up the free weights again. I started running: 1, 2 miles. Today, I ran 3 1/2 miles. Whoo-hoo!!!
And, even with my schedule and the kids, I have managed to lose 20 pounds in 2 months. I am now at BMI 27 (I'm pretty short.) It's hard, damn hard, but I can't give in to excuses or laziness. (Well, maybe sometimes...)
But if I expect to see change, I have to do the work. That means making myself get up at 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday to go for a run BEFORE the kids wake up. And taking the time to do abs work before going to bed. And planning meals: buying the healthy food, packing it up for myself the night before an early office day. It means resisting desserts. Most of the time.
So, while I am not perfect at all of this, I am persisting. My goal is to lose 20 more pounds, to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I find myself empathizing with my patients. Commiserating. Coaching.
So much of my work with patients is in trying, desperately trying, to help people help themselves to get fit. If I can use myself as an example, I will. I know how it is, I'm living it.
I can share with patients about how it's tempting to declare "Diet over!" after giving in to a little indulgence. But this is a HUGE pitfall. I'll talk with patients about how, for me recently, one chocolate-dipped strawberry led to another... and could have led to more and more, but I physically got up from the table and got it back together, and now am seeing results. I'll talk about the merits of hot herbal tea after dinner in lieu of dessert; the handiness of packaged mozzarella cheese stick snacks; the necessity of Truvia.
I can share with patients how hard it is to get in exercise when you work and have kids. How I need to make it a priority, and stay on top of it. Can't go to the gym? Me neither. I haven't re-joined my gym, because I'm not sure I would ever get there. Try running. Jumping rope is excellent exercise. I also discovered hundreds of free fitness videos On Demand. I do abs work at night before bed. I run after my toddler and lift him like weights. And there are stretches of days when I don't move much, and that's OK. It's tempting to declare, Game Over. But that's a common error. Just Keep Going, I tell people.
And I will keep going. Persisting, Resisting. Eyes on the prize.
Next week: 4 miles.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
MiM Mailbag: Pumping during fellowship follow-up
Dear Mothers in Medicine,
It's been 9 months since I last wrote to you and I cannot thank you enough for your help and guidance. I was able to continue pumping for 11 months, and just stopped 1 month ago. As busy as GI fellowship is, pumping became something I incorporated into my daily schedule, and fortunately the program was very supportive.
Overall I found that pumping three times a day worked best - once before work, once mid-day, usually after noon conference or a little earlier if I had afternoon clinic, and once in the evening (this was variable, depending on consults, scopes, etc.). Talking to my program director in advance and letting him know my needs really made a difference. So it wasn't a surprise when I showed up. And it made it easier for them to find a way to accomodate me. Most of the time I used an empty exam room to pump, and was able to get work done during that time (working on notes, returning calls). Sometimes if attendings weren't using their room, they would let me sneak in for 20 minutes. Always leaving the room clean and without a trace helped too (no one wants milk stains anywhere!). Soon after I started, I found talking to the nurses about baby and nursing went a long way towards building camaraderie, and they were often supportive if I had a scope but told them I needed to pump - they would let me do what I needed to and come back in 20 minutes (of course some days were very busy and they would let me know if I needed to start scoping right away too).
Staying hydrated is key. I kept a water bottle at our work area at all times, and kept refilling it during the day. I would use rounds or conference time as a good time to drink fluids. Gatorade is amazing, and helped keep me hydrated and held me over when I didn't have time to grab a snack. Also don't underestimate the free saltines, graham crackers, and little juices and ginger ales around the hospital. Those are fantastic!
To any mothers out there who are trying to pump, it can be done but it does take coordination. There were many times when I skipped out from joining my co-fellows for lunch (or drinks after work!) because of pumping. But there were times I didn't have to either. I think setting small goals makes it doable. I initially went in thinking that I had nursed for three months at least, and if I couldn't do it anymore it would be okay. Then I got into a routine, and tried for 4 months, then 6 months, and pretty soon 11 months came around. By then he was walking, eating more solids, and transitioning to whole milk. It seemed like a good stopping point for us. I commend all the mothers out there who make this work, and thank you for your support. I'm not sure what will happen with number two (not expecting now, but thinking about it...)
Thanks again everyone!
It's been 9 months since I last wrote to you and I cannot thank you enough for your help and guidance. I was able to continue pumping for 11 months, and just stopped 1 month ago. As busy as GI fellowship is, pumping became something I incorporated into my daily schedule, and fortunately the program was very supportive.
Overall I found that pumping three times a day worked best - once before work, once mid-day, usually after noon conference or a little earlier if I had afternoon clinic, and once in the evening (this was variable, depending on consults, scopes, etc.). Talking to my program director in advance and letting him know my needs really made a difference. So it wasn't a surprise when I showed up. And it made it easier for them to find a way to accomodate me. Most of the time I used an empty exam room to pump, and was able to get work done during that time (working on notes, returning calls). Sometimes if attendings weren't using their room, they would let me sneak in for 20 minutes. Always leaving the room clean and without a trace helped too (no one wants milk stains anywhere!). Soon after I started, I found talking to the nurses about baby and nursing went a long way towards building camaraderie, and they were often supportive if I had a scope but told them I needed to pump - they would let me do what I needed to and come back in 20 minutes (of course some days were very busy and they would let me know if I needed to start scoping right away too).
Staying hydrated is key. I kept a water bottle at our work area at all times, and kept refilling it during the day. I would use rounds or conference time as a good time to drink fluids. Gatorade is amazing, and helped keep me hydrated and held me over when I didn't have time to grab a snack. Also don't underestimate the free saltines, graham crackers, and little juices and ginger ales around the hospital. Those are fantastic!
To any mothers out there who are trying to pump, it can be done but it does take coordination. There were many times when I skipped out from joining my co-fellows for lunch (or drinks after work!) because of pumping. But there were times I didn't have to either. I think setting small goals makes it doable. I initially went in thinking that I had nursed for three months at least, and if I couldn't do it anymore it would be okay. Then I got into a routine, and tried for 4 months, then 6 months, and pretty soon 11 months came around. By then he was walking, eating more solids, and transitioning to whole milk. It seemed like a good stopping point for us. I commend all the mothers out there who make this work, and thank you for your support. I'm not sure what will happen with number two (not expecting now, but thinking about it...)
Thanks again everyone!
Monday, March 26, 2012
Trayvon
Mothers in medicine is my refuge, my voice and my forum. So today, I am going to post about Trayvon. Today I will go to work with a hoodie on, I plan to do this every day until Trayvon’s murderer is arrested - AT LEAST ARRESTED. I’m sure some will wonder what this had to do with being a mother in medicine, and although it may not specifically apply, being a mother in medicine is pervasive in every part of my life. My heart aches for this innocent little boy and for his family because I now understand what it feels like to have a child. My heart aches because I have a little brother, who is my heart, who I love so much, who at age 17 wore hoodies all the time and he LOVES Skittles and Sour Patch Kids, and he is a brilliant, beautiful person, and I shudder to think that could have been him. My heart aches because the hoodie I will wear to work today is my husbands. It is the hoodie he wears home from the gym or basketball games after work. The hoodie he wears at night, in the dark and I know he is also no different from all the Trayvon’s in the world. My heart aches because I have seen first hand the violence of a bullet on human flesh. I have found the offending bullet in bodies that have, in an instant, been destroyed by a tiny yet destructive force. I have walked to the special room outside the ICU to deliver news of this destruction. My heart aches because every loss is huge and at the very least, when facing these huge horrible losses, every family deserves justice.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
In case you were wondering...
…I didn’t match.
There are probably many reasons why. I was geographically limited in two ways: my custody agreement limited me to the Southeast, and I only applied in cities where I knew people. I am an osteopathic student who was competing in the MD match. Obstetrics has been a very competitive match recently. I had excellent board scores, a research fellowship, and great extracurricular and leadership activities, but my grades were very middle of the road.
So, now what? I will be doing what is known as a traditional rotating internship at a local hospital, then reapplying for obstetrics residency. It will be much harder to interview as an intern with increased responsibilities. It will be harder to transition to my new residency, if I get one, with only days or weeks off at the end of the year, as opposed to the months I will have to ponder my temporary failure this year before starting as an intern.
Sigh.
I am tired of well meaning people asking me where I will be next year. I am tired of people telling me this was meant to happen. I am jealous, painfully jealous with a pit of hurt in my insides, of my classmates who are joyfully planning their futures. Of my former classmates (I graduated a year behind my original class because of my fellowship) who already have almost a year of residency under their belts. Of people in my profession who are my age and are well into their careers.
I didn’t post about it for a while because it was too raw, too painful. And, honestly, I don’t really want to talk about it. There isn’t much to say. It’s hard enough to deal with people I work with, people in my family, and people in my life who genuinely care asking me about it in a time released fashion. I know they’re asking because they want to share in what they think will be my good news. But, it forces me to rehash my pain over and over again, like someone with a new bandage being asked what happened by every new person they see. And, then I have to nod grimly and politely when they tell me that somehow, it was meant to be.
Please allow me to be self indulgently angry and defeated. This is not how my life was supposed to be at this point. I wasn’t supposed to be staring down the barrel of forty years old, not an obstetrician, just a single mom who is wondering if I can even keep my tiny 1000 sq ft house next year on an intern’s salary. Oh, and I just got diagnosed with a chronic disease that I am managing very well, but has a small chance of crippling me. I know I am extremely lucky to be (mostly) healthy and able bodied, with good support, and smart enough to have made it into medical school in the first place. I know that this is not the end of the world – I very well may match into obstetrics next year. I can also fall back on family medicine, and then do some obstetrics, eventually, in a rural area, possibly after doing an obstetrics fellowship. Or, I can finish internal medicine and then do a women’s health of family planning fellowship.
Sigh. I am not digging for reassurance. I just needed to finally get this out.
Reposted from Mom's Tinfoil Hat
There are probably many reasons why. I was geographically limited in two ways: my custody agreement limited me to the Southeast, and I only applied in cities where I knew people. I am an osteopathic student who was competing in the MD match. Obstetrics has been a very competitive match recently. I had excellent board scores, a research fellowship, and great extracurricular and leadership activities, but my grades were very middle of the road.
So, now what? I will be doing what is known as a traditional rotating internship at a local hospital, then reapplying for obstetrics residency. It will be much harder to interview as an intern with increased responsibilities. It will be harder to transition to my new residency, if I get one, with only days or weeks off at the end of the year, as opposed to the months I will have to ponder my temporary failure this year before starting as an intern.
Sigh.
I am tired of well meaning people asking me where I will be next year. I am tired of people telling me this was meant to happen. I am jealous, painfully jealous with a pit of hurt in my insides, of my classmates who are joyfully planning their futures. Of my former classmates (I graduated a year behind my original class because of my fellowship) who already have almost a year of residency under their belts. Of people in my profession who are my age and are well into their careers.
I didn’t post about it for a while because it was too raw, too painful. And, honestly, I don’t really want to talk about it. There isn’t much to say. It’s hard enough to deal with people I work with, people in my family, and people in my life who genuinely care asking me about it in a time released fashion. I know they’re asking because they want to share in what they think will be my good news. But, it forces me to rehash my pain over and over again, like someone with a new bandage being asked what happened by every new person they see. And, then I have to nod grimly and politely when they tell me that somehow, it was meant to be.
Please allow me to be self indulgently angry and defeated. This is not how my life was supposed to be at this point. I wasn’t supposed to be staring down the barrel of forty years old, not an obstetrician, just a single mom who is wondering if I can even keep my tiny 1000 sq ft house next year on an intern’s salary. Oh, and I just got diagnosed with a chronic disease that I am managing very well, but has a small chance of crippling me. I know I am extremely lucky to be (mostly) healthy and able bodied, with good support, and smart enough to have made it into medical school in the first place. I know that this is not the end of the world – I very well may match into obstetrics next year. I can also fall back on family medicine, and then do some obstetrics, eventually, in a rural area, possibly after doing an obstetrics fellowship. Or, I can finish internal medicine and then do a women’s health of family planning fellowship.
Sigh. I am not digging for reassurance. I just needed to finally get this out.
Reposted from Mom's Tinfoil Hat
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Why you absolutely need to have a baby in residency
Last week, Red Humor mentioned Dr. Sibert's blog post about how you shouldn't have a baby during residency. Is anyone else getting the feeling that Dr. Sibert is just trying to make people angry at this point?
Anyway, I was going to write a post going through several domains (pumping, maternity leave, pregnancy, etc.) and decide which was easier: doing it as an attending or doing it as a residency.
But I'll save some time for both of us. Attending wins all around. To the point where I got mad at myself for not having waited the first time around. Of course, everything is easier the second time around because you know what to expect. And I happened to have an easier second child than first child and a flexible job.
That said, I think having a baby during residency was a good experience in many ways and I obviously do not regret it. So in the interest of being positive, I present to you.....
Reasons to have a kid during residency instead of waiting:
1) Because apparently, it isn't so great to have kids after age 40. And yes, you may finish residency before you're 40, so maybe that argument doesn't hold water. Except say you're 25, which was the average age of matriculating students at my med school. You go through med school and four years of residency. Now you're 33. And because you're already in your 30s, it takes you a little longer to get pregnant, so you get pregnant at 34, first baby born age 35 (now advanced maternal age). And you want three kids. I won't do the math, but you can see how you're creeping into the 40s territory, when there's a higher risk of complications, birth defects, and infertility. (I could go on about this. I won't. But I could.)
2) It's unlikely when you get out in the real world that you will have like 20 people to share coverage for your leave. Coverage is much harder to come by in the real world.
3) If you're gonna have preggo brain or "milk brain" (it's real!), is it better to have it when you've got an attending looking over your shoulder or when it's your first year in real practice?
4) Everyone talks about "getting the career stuff out of the way" before having kids. Because you want to enjoy your kids. But how about enjoying your career? The second you get out in the real world and start building your career, do you want it broken up by maternity leaves and sleepless nights?
5) Gives you a great excuse to hightail it when attending comes up with a really stupid reason why they want you to stay.
6) Helps you to grow up and gain maturity and perspective, which, let's face it, a lot of residents really need.
7) It makes residency (which can be horrible) more tolerable.
8) Being a parent gives you a way to relate to attendings. And while some of them might give you smack for taking a maternity leave, I felt like I got a lot more respect for being a mom.
9) Because what else are you going to put a picture of at the end of your powerpoint lecture? Your cat??
10) Dr. Sibert herself had a baby prior to residency and thinks that was A-OK. So what's the hard part then? Being pregnant? Arranging maternity leave? Dr. Sibert says yes, but I say no! The hard part is having a freaking child to take care of. Is having a baby as a med student better than doing it as a PGY2 like I did? I'd again say NO. I got through my whole internship without having to worry about my kid missing me. Isn't that the hardest part??
11) In many fields, being an attending can be harder than being a resident. Especially if you do as Dr. Sibert suggests and don't work parttime.
12) Similar to one reason why women have kids close together in age: you're already sleeping badly, so why not?
13) I'm in my early thirties and I think I'm done! I never have to go through pregnancy and childbirth again! It's so liberating. (Sometimes depressing. But also liberating!)
So there you go. 13 great reasons to have a baby in residency. But ultimately, as we know, it's a very personal decision and you shouldn't let some idiot on a blog tell you what to do with your life.
Anyway, I was going to write a post going through several domains (pumping, maternity leave, pregnancy, etc.) and decide which was easier: doing it as an attending or doing it as a residency.
But I'll save some time for both of us. Attending wins all around. To the point where I got mad at myself for not having waited the first time around. Of course, everything is easier the second time around because you know what to expect. And I happened to have an easier second child than first child and a flexible job.
That said, I think having a baby during residency was a good experience in many ways and I obviously do not regret it. So in the interest of being positive, I present to you.....
Reasons to have a kid during residency instead of waiting:
1) Because apparently, it isn't so great to have kids after age 40. And yes, you may finish residency before you're 40, so maybe that argument doesn't hold water. Except say you're 25, which was the average age of matriculating students at my med school. You go through med school and four years of residency. Now you're 33. And because you're already in your 30s, it takes you a little longer to get pregnant, so you get pregnant at 34, first baby born age 35 (now advanced maternal age). And you want three kids. I won't do the math, but you can see how you're creeping into the 40s territory, when there's a higher risk of complications, birth defects, and infertility. (I could go on about this. I won't. But I could.)
2) It's unlikely when you get out in the real world that you will have like 20 people to share coverage for your leave. Coverage is much harder to come by in the real world.
3) If you're gonna have preggo brain or "milk brain" (it's real!), is it better to have it when you've got an attending looking over your shoulder or when it's your first year in real practice?
4) Everyone talks about "getting the career stuff out of the way" before having kids. Because you want to enjoy your kids. But how about enjoying your career? The second you get out in the real world and start building your career, do you want it broken up by maternity leaves and sleepless nights?
5) Gives you a great excuse to hightail it when attending comes up with a really stupid reason why they want you to stay.
6) Helps you to grow up and gain maturity and perspective, which, let's face it, a lot of residents really need.
7) It makes residency (which can be horrible) more tolerable.
8) Being a parent gives you a way to relate to attendings. And while some of them might give you smack for taking a maternity leave, I felt like I got a lot more respect for being a mom.
9) Because what else are you going to put a picture of at the end of your powerpoint lecture? Your cat??
10) Dr. Sibert herself had a baby prior to residency and thinks that was A-OK. So what's the hard part then? Being pregnant? Arranging maternity leave? Dr. Sibert says yes, but I say no! The hard part is having a freaking child to take care of. Is having a baby as a med student better than doing it as a PGY2 like I did? I'd again say NO. I got through my whole internship without having to worry about my kid missing me. Isn't that the hardest part??
11) In many fields, being an attending can be harder than being a resident. Especially if you do as Dr. Sibert suggests and don't work parttime.
12) Similar to one reason why women have kids close together in age: you're already sleeping badly, so why not?
13) I'm in my early thirties and I think I'm done! I never have to go through pregnancy and childbirth again! It's so liberating. (Sometimes depressing. But also liberating!)
So there you go. 13 great reasons to have a baby in residency. But ultimately, as we know, it's a very personal decision and you shouldn't let some idiot on a blog tell you what to do with your life.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
when are we done with training?
At no other time in my medical training was I as confident that, with hard work and dedication, I could master the field of internal medicine as when I was a newly minted third year medical student.
Fresh from having taken the USMLE step 1, I interpreted my ability to recite the mechanism of penicillin resistance or the role of histamine in the immune response, and describe in great detail the unabridged and factual accounting of the patient’s forty year occupational history as evidence that, while I still had a ways to go, the practice of medicine could become as comfortable and familiar as reciting passages from a play or riding a bike. One day, I would just know it.
This is, of course, an exaggeration, but not one without merit as there is no other time in one’s medical training when one is so completely unaware of how little they know about medicine. Each additional year I've spent in training has only deepened my appreciation for that which is both unknown and unknowable, and despite this appreciation I still am occasionally horrified by lapses in my knowledge base. I resigned myself to the fact that my training will continue for as long as I practice, well after I am board certified in oncology and hematology.
Many readers of this blog are likely familiar with Dr. Karen Sibert, whose name I first learned after she wrote an article titled "Don’t Quit This Day Job" that appeared in the New York Times. There were many strong responses to her criticism of female physicians who choose to not work full time, one of which appeared in this blog. She recently posted on her blog a piece titled "Give yourself a break - Don't have a baby during residency", which has also created quite a stir. This posting as been the subject of many blogger’s recent pieces and I don’t want to repeat some very well articulated responses – one of which appears here. Even the comment thread of Dr. Au's post contains interesting reflections on the competing obligations of medical training and early motherhood.
I have a different question, not related to work hours, coverage schedules, ticking clocks, or the financial or marital implications of having a baby during residency. My question is this - when are we really done with our training? It's a question I myself, still in my own training, am not in a position to answer. But I have serious doubts that the need to check current treatment recommendations, latest journal publications, available clinical trials, or consult physicians more senior than myself, isn't going to end when fellowship does. If anything it could get more difficult to maintain sufficient knowledge base once I am removed from the structure of a training program.
It is probably a good time to point out that I am not in a particularly procedure-heavy field of medicine. In the middle of the night and as a senior IM resident, most questions regarding the management of critically ill patients could be handled over the phone. As a heme/onc fellow I spend a lot of time reading and, obviously, consulting with my colleagues, usually during daylight hours. I am not sure if the same is true of more procedurally oriented programs such as surgery or anesthesiology, where perhaps there is a greater need for someone more senior to actually stand by you and aid in management. A person who might not be available once you have completed training. But I did once overhear a surgical attending loudly berate his chief and junior residents for not being able to answer a pimp question on neointimal hyperplasia, which struck me then, as it does now, as not a subject far more medicine-y than surgical. The attending went on to say (or really, more like yell) that his own residency training had become obsolete ten years after completion and that if they were not in the habit of prioritizing self directed learning now, they would soon find themselves without the knowledge base or skill set to safely operate in the community.
So, if you accept that the need to question what you do and do not know will never end, and that as a member of this field you are professionally obligated to avail upon yourself all necessary resources (including colleagues) required to provide your patients with the best care available, I wonder how relevant an end point "residency" is when trying to assess the ideal time to start a family (and again, I am not taking about call schedules).
I had my first baby as a second year medical resident. Yes, it was hard. But I learned to adjust the way I studied just as I learned to adjust every other aspect of my life. Social life, goodbye. Athleticism, goodbye. A working knowledge of current events, see ya. Mommyhood, marriage, and medicine were made my priorities then, as they would have if I'd waited until after residency, but at least by learning to restructure earlier in my career, I was doing so with the safety net of a training program rather than as a new attending.
For example, prior to becoming a mom, I had studied mostly in the evenings and weekends, usually beside my husband in whatever little apartment we shared at the time. That was simply not going to work with a baby at home. So, with IM boards looming, I requested the month of July (I was still a resident in July as I was paying back the time I had taken for maternity leave) to work on an outpatient rotation. I got up early to be at Starbucks at 5am and studied there every weekday morning until boards. No evenings, no weekends. And I was fine. More than fine. When it comes time to study for my oncology and hematology boards, will have a 4.5 year old and a 1.5 year old. Mornings in Starbucks might not be an option, but neither is not studying. I will have to adjust again.
Residency is important. Very important. But, over the course of our careers, it isn't an endpoint when it comes to the quality of care we provide our patients. Being a good doctor is no more a finite achievement than being a good mom.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)