This Mother’s Day weekend brought me a lot of reflection. I lost my own mother 5.5 years ago, and every Mother's Day since has been challenging for its own reasons. Since becoming a mother myself, I have found it to be a particularly challenging day for all the usual reasons. Initially, there was the expectation to ensure that I was honoring my mother, my mother-in-law, and all the other mother-like figures my children love. Sometimes, that was a mental lift on its own. Then there are the smiles—both real and forced—based on the very loving gifts from my own children and my own fatigue from being a physician. It is a thoughtful day, with lots of expectations, which can be both positive and negative.
Five years ago, the first Mother’s Day after I lost my mother, my children really wanted to celebrate me and show me all their love. I did my best to smile and feel their joy. My husband was amazing and did his best to ensure that I had the time to feel all of my feelings—grief, sadness, joy, and many others.
It was that weekend when I decided to start really taking care of myself. I began paying attention to what I was eating and truly prioritized my exercise time. Shortly after, we decided to get a Peloton bike, and I jumped into the virtual community with both feet. I knew I needed to take care of myself so that I could enjoy my family for many years to come.
I was also reflecting on my career journey at that time. I was facing a choice of whether I should remain in my role, at my employer, or even in clinical medicine. I was really angry with medicine and struggling to determine if I was just part of the problem or could be part of the solution. I wanted to be happy in my career, particularly since I spend so much time with my work family.
Shortly after that Mother’s Day five years ago, I accepted the role as program director of my residency program. I was excited to continue working in a program with a mission I deeply valued. I also hoped to step into my mother’s shoes. Even though my mother wasn’t a physician, she was an amazing educator—caring for her students, their parents, the teachers, and other leaders in her school. When I reflected on her funeral, I was in awe of the number of lives she impacted by being an amazing educator. Subconsciously, I started to think that I needed to emulate my mom—I had to reach others through education. I realized that leaning into this could be my path forward. I fully embraced the idea of education. Although I can’t teach my learners and team everything, supporting them in the right opportunities and challenges has brought me joy in a way I just wasn’t expecting.
Although I was learning, growing, and taking care of my health, the grief I experienced in the year after my mother’s death led me to a tipping point. I told the grief counselor I saw that I felt like I was on a precipice—that I was about to fall off and I was going to be okay, or I wasn’t. She asked some questions: What would it mean if I fell? What would that mean for me or my family? What was the worst thing that would happen? What was keeping me from falling? I think back to these questions and would answer them much differently now than I could articulate then. It also makes me realize that even though I thought I had started taking care of myself in May 2019, and I truly had, I didn’t understand all the things I needed to do to take care of myself. This was the start of that journey, but the true change from the journey came later.
As my photo memories from this Mother’s Day five years ago came up, it was truly bittersweet. I am reminded of the sadness I was feeling, but I am so thankful that I started my journey to take care of myself. And I am so glad that I continue to be surrounded by folks who loved and were touched by my mother and am loved by my own amazing girls.
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