Not a mommie blog

In case it feels like EVERYONE is having a baby- you are right. Your sense is correct. They are.

In October of 2006 I had Halloween circled on my calendar. My husband and I were whispering back and forth about our little goblin. My first pre-natal visit scheduled for October 31st. We held hands in the waiting room. My urinalysis showed trace blood. From that moment on my husband and I experienced the visit dramatically differently.

Dr. G is my OB. She and I became friends in 1998 when as she was a year behind me in med school. Dr. D is her partner. D and I met in 1996, our first year of med school. She and I played Volleyball together- we were quite good- winning the intramural league.

For me the blood was foreboding- of course G reassured with her voice but her eyes shared my worry. The ultrasound showed a gestational sac- but measured half the size I expected. Still more reassurance, not received as my concern grew. Outside the room G finished her charting, returned with my US picture. Her hand shook as she gave it to me. June 16 was the calculated due date. Congratulations she said. Everything looks good- but let's have you come back next week to take another look.

B and I spent the week like the one before. Occasionally I would mention my worry- and he would question whether I was being rational. He honestly (bless his heart) had no clue of the trouble. I followed his lead.

One week later we returned and the final diagnosis was made. Missed abortion- miscarriage. This time G had not words, just tears in her eyes. I can remember shaking when getting dressed then stepping out of the door to find both D and G. Across the hall I stood in their office and we made a hug circle. How uncomfortable the med student must have felt that day- a young man wishing he could disappear as three women, two his attendings sharing a very emotional moment.

How alienating (and shocking) this experience must be for most women. For me I had some warning and then was surrounded by two doctors/two dear friends when accepting the news. I was sad, but also felt an agony. Anticipating the time that must pass before returning to this same point, with another chance for life. Little did I know that a broken arm and major hip surgery were in my future, pushing motherhood even farther away.

Life does go on. And as expected for young female physicians in our 30's the baby making goes on too. How many more first birthday cards I will send and baby showers will I plan? No need to seem like it doesn't bother me- no need to hide that I feel left out. Just moving forward.

Fateful step

Last Monday. My first day back in heels..... conquered the massive convention center. Back to the hotel at the end of a successful day- change into a cute black dress (and sensible black flats) ready for a fun night out in Chicago. Confidently stride out of my hotel onto Michigan Avenue. Rainy gloomy spring weather, typical of the Windy City. A warm evening, but wet from a day of rain. Three blocks from the restaurant. Thinking about the exciting people I met that day. Thinking of the big events in the upcoming week. Thinking of the nice glass of red wine waiting for me. Thinking of plenty things, except my step.... and whoa, right foot out, left foot back, hands in front, down I go. No, not the hokey poky. It was me, biting it on a wet sidewalk in Chicago.

A deep breath later, surveying the damage. Left hip- still there, no pain, good. Left knee, planted into one of those metal grates, ouch. "Honey are you okay?" a tall lurking man says voice straining to hold back a chuckle. "I don't know" I stammered as I stood up slowly and walked off a little less confidently. Pausing at the next street corner, surveying the damage- deep cuts in the knee. Considering the options, now two blocks from the restaurant I decide to seek the solace of friends- expecting other cards fellows assembled for the drug rep dinner.

I step into the restaurant with blood running down my leg and eyes welled- only to find instead of a group of friends- my program director and the drug rep. Welcome they say.... still not yet ready for complete sentences I get out.... can't- stay- dinner.... and the boss quickly realizes something is wrong. Now quite embarrassed about my state I accept his offer to hail a cab and I am on my way back to my hotel.

I find a Walgreen's. Purchase bandages, neosporine and as any girl would do in that situation- a pint of Ben & Jerry's for dinner. Nursing my wounds bloody and emotional I find solace in chocolate fudge brownie.

So I made it home safely. My knee looks rather gnarly, and my swim and bike routine has been suspended for the week. My hip was a little sore for a few days- but no major damage. Another lesson in humility- so much for big girls don't cry at work- all for sure I will recover from in time.

One point for the pink team

Watching a professional in action. The men fear her. Stiletto heels, purple business suit and some serious chutzpa. Wow, I have never actually had my picture on a poster before- she said referring to the large advertisement we created for her visit. Yes the poster, the flier for lecture attendees, invite for tea with medical students planned for this afternoon. The details. It is my thing. Chit chat, however for me is a more deliberate effort. Our ride to the hospital from her hotel was casual. I was quite impressed when the people we talked about in the car received props during her talk. She chatted with me, and from my answers... this physician is interested in this, so and so taught me that, etc. This is the business of academic medicine. I suppose you do not become Professor without a significant mastery.

My favorite moment so far- last night at dinner. The indignation from the female faculty members when one of our fellows mentioned that the male fellows undress in our office. They choose to change from scrubs to dress clothes in front of us. Okay I know everyone stands around in their underwear on Grey's Anatomy- but this is real life and the locker room is right across the hall! Perhaps these boys feel more comfortable standing in their boxers surrounded by photos of cheerleaders and women with large naked breasts. Oh yea. This is what is posted in their cubicles.

So I spend time (and talent) fostering mentoring from women in cardiology. Why? Because the more I see of these successful, talented, gracious women the stronger I feel about my career, and life actually. But deeper even- I am out for revenge. Not an ugly kind- but just the type where the underdog good guy (girl) wins at the end.

The humble (limping) protege

It was a nice affair. My boss (fifteen years my senior) is a cardiologist, scientist, mother, and today Professor of Medicine. They gave her an endowed chair..... with all of the pomp and circumstance. There was a medal, a big one, that she wore around her neck as she gave her lecture.

The chancellor of the university, dean of medical school, chairman of medicine all said that she is an amazing scientist. They had her mother, father, brother, sister, husband, son and daughter stand up. They all were in the audience. For her introduction, "When a brilliant mind meets excellence in education and enthusiasm for discovery........"

It all-together was surreal. In surroundings familiar, I felt like an outsider.... being away for almost two months. Her accolades seemed to belong to a giant. For a moment seeming more like a coronation than lecture. Today she is the star. Somehow managing to find her way atop a pile of ego-centric, contemptuous, impatient, gender-biased men.

Surreal because I know this woman. I have been known to curse her. When she returns my writing nearly all red with edits, sends me back to the bench feeling my questions were ridiculously stupid, chastises me for spending too much time with patients and casually suggests I should repeat the experiment over the weekend.

But she is also the woman who hand-delivered home cooked meal to my house after my surgery.

What a challenge to be a successful woman. Here I am a critic, sitting in the privileged position to advance under her tutelage. Perhaps it reflects my own struggle. To find the right balance between kick-ass cardiologist, healthy/ fit athlete, and caring thoughtful friend.

A love hate relationship with the Professor. A love hate relationship with myself?

Crazy Busy Explodes

I am just sick. Nausea and dispair. Pediatric fellow late for work calls basic science research scientist husband. He comes downstairs to meet her, she runs to work. He drives car 4 blocks and parks it in usual location. She didn't mention the baby. He didn't look in the rear facing car seat. He returns to work. Seven month old little Sophia is found dead in car 4 hours later.

Too close to home, in more than one way.

Loss

My baby was due June 16th. Every time a colleague mentions their children reflexivly I think about the baby I lost. Seven month old baby, four months older than my child would have been. A sense of loss multiplied.

Similar Stuggles

In medical training others control your schedule. You are kept on a short leash. Pushing your limits despite mental or physical fatigue. My friends who have children share thier sense of guilt. Needing more time for work or home, always balancing the two. When interviewing I met a cardiovascular research scientist who balanced her medical career, laboratory, and family. When asked her advice she responded, "As a female physian you learn to juggle, trying not to drop a ball but knowing it will bounce. As a physician mother you keep juggling but the differece is now one of the balls (your child) is made of glass."

Harsh Reflection

Others tell me how lucky I am. They remeber their pre children days fondly. They say, "How wonderful it must be to pick up and go at a moments notice. You are so healthy and productive, these kids just take so much time!" Bitter for me. Waiting to start a family was a concious decision. Baby while protected in the lab was my plan. Infertility, left wrist fracture, hip cartlidge tear and congenital hip abnormality were not part of this plan. Few can understand the way married with children looks from my perspective. Disaster and loss haults the crazy busy life for Sophie's parents. Horrible pain and loss was not in thier plan. Where does that leave us?

Girls behaving badly

Folding the laundry this morning I had a moment of clarity. Since my beginning cardiology fellowship in 2004 I have made a concerted effort to help other women interested in cardiology, and foster a network among the female fellows. This is necessary because women make up less than 10% of cardiologists. In the office shared with the other (male) fellows, it is not unusual to find porn posted, and many (even attendings) remember fondly the days when a stripper pole was installed as a joke.

My efforts have faced disappointment, as to my dismay there is dissension among the women training behind me. Frustrated and perplexed up until now, the meditation of ordering the white t-shirts and matching socks brought a new understanding.

Faced with challenges each of us found (our own) way to survive. Mine is trying to create a better atmosphere for the future. A close colleague looks out for herself and hates everyone. Another is flirtatious and keeps the guys off balance by being unexpected. One found support in another fellow, they will be married this year.

We need to transcend to understand that we still have more in common that we are different. Referee I am not, yet the mother in me still hopes to see these beautiful, passionate, brilliant women together.... for unified we could be a force.