My quarterly crisis is rearing its very ugly head. See, it’s birthday season around here and while the boys’ birthdays overlap with the holiday season, I tend to feel an irrepressible need to reflect. Holidays and birthdays are momentous moments, but also markers of time. Places on the calendar and spaces in my heart for subscribed reflection and perspective gathering.
So it is now, this time of year, where I seem to struggle the most with my choices as a mom and a doctor, a wife and a daughter, a community member and a girl just trying to get it all “right.”
I cry every year on my boys’ birthday. The tears well up both out of joy (wow-wow-wow my little boys love getting older & their joy with the special day grows annually) and also out of sadness. Sadness in my ongoing strife with the question of shifting balances, purpose, goals, and daily mindfulness. Am I working too much, am I missing something, am I as present as I can be? Should I be home more? Should I contribute and write more? Should I be seeing more patients? Can I help more people than I am helping today?
I’m torn. Shred up about what is “right” (for me) and on birth day, I’m nearly emulsified. This is tough stuff. As the years tick by and the acknowledgement of mortality grows as the days seem seep into the ether, I really want to have no regret. Sometimes, like most humans, I do.
Part of the trouble is the words of all the parents around me. They all say the exact same thing. And they have been saying it to me for over 5 years. I know they say it to you, too. The woman at the grocery, the mentor or peer, my good friend, the doctor across the country, the parents in my clinic, my mother, the barista, the man helping me at the parking garage…. They all say the exact same thing when they see my boys:
“It just goes too fast.”
If you haven’t heard that statement (followed by the inevitable advice), you haven’t left the house with your baby/toddler/child. Or you’re stuck under some big, heavy rock.
And so, as both of the boys birthdays are upon me, mixed up with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years, I am awash in the irreplaceable quandary of living life to the fullest. Valuing my boys like nothing else, I am clear on their priority in my life. I am clear about the priorities of caring for and supporting my patients. But as a friend over the weekend said, “You can’t stop valuing your own life, too.” And part of that life includes my motherhood, but also my work, my self-care, my relationships with friends, and a commitment to those around me.
And so I will sit in this space today, spinning like a top at the end of the cycle when it starts to wobble, and I’ll wonder once again as the candles get blown out, am I doing it all “right?”
Jennifer Wojciechowski says
Dr Swanson, you’re doing it right! The best we can do is make sure our kids are healthy, happy, and provided for. They also need to see us be healthy, happy adults who are also productive and a positive influence in the community. If our lives revolved around just our children, then they believe the world revolves around them and that’s not a healthy outlook to take into adulthood.
It does go too fast, but every moment is one more to add to the collection. 🙂
Shelly says
Dr. Swanson you hit the nail on the head for me today as my oldest son turns 17 and my youngest son just turned 14 a month and a half ago. I’m looking at just 1 and a half years left and he will be off to college. Your friends are right, the time goes by way to fast. I can still remember my boys the ages you talk about in your blog and I wish I could go back to those times. They get older, things change, family dynamics change and sometimes a boo boo on the knee that needs to by kissed by mom is what I long for.
Scoop them up and hold them tight for soon they will have their wings and be off to fly!
Dr. Amy Anzilotti says
As a mom. pediatrician and blogger I follow your website and enjoy your contributions immensely. My children are a bit older: 13, 10 and 8 and I have struggled with your same forces. The overwhelming urge to be with my children as much as I possibly can and the desire to care for patients and contribute to medicine are undoubtedly at odds. I recently made the decision to stay home and all I will say is when the time was right, it all fell into place and seemed obvious. The pros, cons and arguments that sloshed around in my head for years became quiet and I felt at peace with my decision. The noise may start again but for now, reaching families through blogging and mindfully enjoying the everyday experiences with my children is rejuvenating and fulfilling in a way I did not fully anticipate. They may not need you now (or ever?) in a way that makes it compelling for you to choose but if they do-trust yourself to recognize the right time.
Susannah Fox says
My boys are only a little bit older than yours, but I feel similarly — and I’ll share what I do about it. I soak in the present. When I’m with my kids, I let go of everything I possibly can let go of in order to Be Here Now. It’s tough, but it gets easier with practice. When I fail I just refocus and keep trying.
I also try to avoid soaking in other people’s regret, which I think is what you are describing — the “it just goes too fast” thing. It didn’t go too fast for me, sister. I soaked in those baby years and loved it. But I was ready to let those years go so I could soak in the toddler years. And so on. Now my big boy and I share novels and debate characters, plot twists, and how we would change the ending. My little boy and I read poems. Sure my heart melts when I see a baby sometimes, but my heart also melts when I see puppies and Fiats. It doesn’t mean I’m going to get one.
Here’s a lovely TED talk about regret, in case you want to have a psychological framework for your pursuit of happiness:
https://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2011/12/05/kathryn-schulz-regret-ted/
Wendy Sue Swanson, MD says
This: “Sure my heart melts when I see a baby sometimes, but my heart also melts when I see puppies and Fiats. It doesn’t mean I’m going to get one,” will stick with me for a long time…
I’d say regret is sparse. Life turbulent, and then irresistible with children. Mindfulness is key (as you suggest). The joys are just so big…that is what makes it hard to step away. Ever.
Kathy says
Dr. Swanson,
I think every parent has these thoughts regardless if they work inside or outside the home especially during the holiday season when schedules are stretched. I have learned that you will always be their parent and they will always love you dearly. Cultivating special moments and memories for each age helps.
Ora says
As a grandmother, I finally have some things in life in better perspective. YES! We all get one year older every year. I love my life most today, and I love my grandchildren most everyday I’m with them. One of my friends told me just yesterday, do what makes you happy. Next year, I’m going back to work (the paid type), and then (a little later in the year) I’m going for my PhD. Cuzz learning new things makes me happy. I may never get it right, but I’m having fun trying. Better yet, I’m going for a healthy balance, because that’s what’s right for me.
Claire says
Yo know I share so many of these thoughts…..I only want to add that there is no “right” and that perhaps we just all have to slosh around in it as we go and trust our hearts when we find a timescale over which we feel a net sense of happiness. And go for that for a while..until it changes!
Yolanda @ One Family Table says
All I can say is, I feel the same way. I struggle with these same questions and tugs of the heart almost everyday, while at work, while doing laundry or changing diapers, while lying in bed at the end of the day while my husband sleeps peacefully because he just doesn’t doubt himself the way I do. You seem to be able to multitask and juggle things well though. Once I realized that multitasking was not my forte, I decided to cut down on the number of work days so I could focus better. Nevertheless I always wish I could do more. On many fronts. What has helped just this past year was a new acceptance of the fact that I can’t have it all. I had always thought I could. But there are only so many hours in the day. This used to sound disappointing, but even though I can’t have it all, it was also encouraging to know that I absolutely CAN have what matters most to me. I have full control of those decisions. There is no perfect balance, but it sounds like you are following your heart. That’s really all you can do, right? Try as we might, we sure can’t seem to make time pause for even a moment. But even with being mindful, I still find that it goes too fast. So more than mindfulness, I hope to be honest and purposeful in my motives for how I spend my time and energy, so that it isn’t dictated by other things. Half the battle is teasing away the expectations of others to get back to the core of what I value for my life. Sorry so long, but I’ve been thinking about this too!
Jill says
One of my best friends and mother of three passed on a quote that has become her mantra when I went back to work after the birth of my daughter (who’s now 3) and it kept me going when I returned to work (part-time now) after the birth of my son (who’s now 16 months):
“It’s not only children who grow. Parents grow too. As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours. I can’t tell my children to reach for the sun. All I can do is reach for it myself.”
For your patients, for all of us that follow you, we’re lucky that you’re willing to strike a balance between the various important components of your life. I think if you follow your heart and love what you do when you’re away from your family, you become a better mom when you’re with your family. Cheers to you as grow with your children. You’re giving them an incredible role model.
Wendy Sue Swanson, MD says
Thanks, Jill.
Viki says
Jill’s friend may have read The Six Stages of Parenthood by Ellen Galinsky. Preschool is the start of what Galinsky calls the interpretive stage. We interpret the world for our children, model standards of behavior. In the nutritive stage we had to do a lot for our kids. In the interpretive stage, we have to be a lot for our kids – teacher, role model, referee, counselor, authority. My kids are complete opposites of each other in terms of temperament. Not only does it feel like the job requirements change at this age, but I can’t apply much I learn from the first child to the second. I don’t have work/life crises anymore because I eliminated work from the equation. But I still don’t feel much closer to getting it “right.” I’m happy if I feel that my best is good enough and that my best can improve bit by bit over time.
another Jill says
When I was pregnant, the minister who had officiated at my wedding gave me a wonderful little nugget of wisdom– she said that from the day my baby was born, every next day of my child’s life would be a lesson for ME in learning to let go a little more. Accepting that has been really powerful.
However, sometimes I’ve wondered if there’s something wrong with me because I didn’t cry when I dropped my son off at daycare the first time, nor on his first day of preschool (he’s 3 now). I think some of that might be I come from a different parenting perspective- at birth my son nearly died and spent his first month in the NICU. I’ve had no choice but to see every single day as a gift. Completely separate from his traumatic little start in life, my son is also mildly autistic with a significant speech and language delay. Every new developmental milestone is a victory for the whole family. And it’s really a gift to be able to continue to feel the kind of wonder and amazement I felt when he was a baby, as he grows up. So for today, I don’t feel like he’s growing up too fast.
As much as I try, I’m not the best at always staying in the present. But I keep practicing because I feel like that might be the most important thing I do for my son. I try to remind myself that because there is ALWAYS more that could be done in just about every arena of life, I can tell myself, “I am enough, I have enough, I know enough, I do enough.” And then I can let go of the weight of everything else.
Wendy Sue Swanson, MD says
Thanks Jill. What a wonderful and fresh perspective. I read your comment twice to really soak it up. Love the mantra “I am enough, I have enough, I know enough, I do enough.” And typing it out felt good/cathartic, too 🙂