We can all do hard things

We can all do hard things

The best part about being a working parent is the example I set for both of my children – that working to make a difference and helping others is important, and that we can all do hard things. The kids love asking me about my work, and I feel proud to be able to talk to them about the diversity of our community, and to explain the inequities that lie within it.

Parenting has impacted my career. In the broader sense it’s brought home to me that what we do matters.  Providing family support during the most stressful times of people’s lives is such a privilege. It’s underlined for me the importance of joint decision making, values-based care and great communication.  It’s also given me a new sense of empathy – supervising a toddler from imminent disaster is really hard, and catching a wee is not as simple as it looks!

When I compare myself to peers that didn’t take a care-giving break, I feel that they have made more gains.  Some of those peers chose not to have children, others decided not to take parental leave, and some weren’t entitled to it.

The worst part about being a working parent is the juggle, the sleep deprivation, and the guilt.

Until parental leave is available and proactively shared between genders – combined with childcare being more accessible for working parents, especially shift workers! – unfortunately that gap won’t be reduced.

My first day returning to work from parental leave was also my first day working as a consultant. My colleagues were supportive, but more from a “first shift as a consultant” perspective rather than a “return from parental leave” one.

During my parental leave, I had no keeping-in-touch days, no SUPER course and I didn’t have a female medical role model with children within my workplace who I could turn to for advice.

When I returned to work, there wasn’t a return-to-work policy, so I felt awkward asking for what felt like “special treatment”. I felt I needed to specifically request not to be put on-call for the first few shifts back, so that I could find my feet. I wasn’t confident that my return from parental leave would have been considered.  My previous experiences in medicine are of being chucked in the deep end, with the general culture of feel-free-to-cope.

It turns out this had already been considered but the lack of clarity surrounding the return-to-work process was unnecessarily stressful, and reminiscent of trying to negotiate coming off call in late pregnancy.

I surround myself with a diverse and supportive group of friends who I can trust to be honest and provide me with balance, whether that be a debrief after a challenging shift, a swim in the ocean, a glass of wine, or a dissection of the latest political scandal or Netflix series.

The worst part about being a working parent is the juggle, the sleep deprivation, and the guilt. I felt guilty, needing to leave the floor to pump – so guilty that I ended up not leaving the floor at all, as the pressure of finding an abandoned office vaguely in the same area as the ED (and taking more than one fifteen-minute break) was stressful to manage. In the end, my supply dried up and my daughter weaned herself.   

Fortunately, my partner is incredibly supportive and actively enables me to work. We share caregiving and domestic responsibilities equally; the balance probably tips towards him, if I’m honest. We don’t have family in Australia, so we’ve had to build a tight network of friends to help us out.  We’re in a very privileged position and I acknowledge that my experience of parenting is much easier than many others.

I also surround myself with a diverse and supportive group of friends who I can trust to be honest and provide me with balance, whether that be a debrief after a challenging shift, a swim in the ocean, a glass of wine, or a dissection of the latest politic scandal or Netflix series.

My whole family champions my work and I’m never made to feel guilty. It’s just my own guilt and self-criticism I have to manage.

For me, a large part of learning to manage my inner critic was reminding myself that I was entitled to support, and that if it wasn’t offered to me, I could – and should – ask for it. It’s not “special treatment”, it doesn’t mean you’re a bad doctor and it doesn’t mean you’re not contributing to the team. Getting over that mindset was one of the biggest steps to looking after my mental health.

Then, it’s about prioritising your mental and physical health, and making sure you carve out time for yourself. I’ve found drawing really strict boundaries between home and work has helped me.

This separation between work and home means that when I’m home, the kids know I’m all in.

I now do the work that I used to do at home at the hospital, either going into work early or staying late. Alternatively, I leave the house for an hour and find a café with Wi-Fi. Similarly, giving myself permission to organise an extra couple of hours of childcare makes a world of difference to my capacity to be a more present parent.

This separation between work and home means that when I’m home, the kids know I’m all in. Inevitably, I also manage to complete my work tasks in less than a quarter of the time it would have taken me if I’d been trying to balance that and toilet training, or some messy craft project.

If I had any advice for people returning to the workforce after taking parental leave, it would be to be proactive and make a planned return to work with your DEM.  Then, it’s about being super organised, with clear divisions of labour and role allocations within your support network.  You can’t do it all, and you won’t be able to have it all done your way, so be prepared to manage your own expectations.

It’s not going to be perfect but as long as everyone is safe, sane and feels loved, you’re nailing it!

Identity, social justice and Voice

Identity, social justice and Voice

The Building Our Future Summit

The Building Our Future Summit