I’ve been needing something to jumpstart my blogging recently. The biggest problem I have is really that I have so many things I want to say, I’m having a hard time condensing into something coherent and meaningful. So I’m going to start with Sunday Scribblings this week, we’ll see how it turns out. The prompt this week is: “Fellow Travelers”
When my son was born, I was in medical school and slogging through my last year of clinical rotations. There were several of us who had babies that year, and I was the lucky recipient of commiseration, advice, and general moral support from my fellow travelers on the motherhood and medicine pathway. We pumped breast milk together in the call rooms, we traded tips about baby food, and all used the same babysitter. It was a wonderful thing, to have friends who knew, really knew what it was like.
Now that I’m a resident, I’m the only intern with a child, and actually one of the few women in my class who is even married. Most of the women in my intern class are single, stick-thin marathon runners who are into going out post-call and singing karaoke. They tell me, “I don’t know how you do it”, and the truth is, I don’t either. I have no one who gets this. My mother is nearby and God love her, is tremendously supportive, but only in the general sense of offering desperately needed encouragement and occasional help with laundry. At work, I feel like I’m a world apart. From a career standpoint, I’m just starting out and I am so far down the ladder sometimes I’m not sure I’m even standing on the bottom rung. But from a social standpoint, I’ve been married almost five years, I have an amazing little boy, and I wish there was someone who I could see in the hallway at 2am and trade a knowing smile with.
But there isn’t. And it’s okay, most of the time. I’m thinking of myself as a trailblazer. So what if I’m different than everyone I’m working with? I love my life, I love my job, and I adore my family. At home I’m mama and wife: chief tickler and bath-giver, and head-scratcher extraordinaire. At work, I’m an intern: order-writer, scut-monkey, shaker of hands and caffeine queen. For now at least, I’m a lone traveler.