I was in preterm labor, about to deliver my son at 31 weeks as a PGY-3 orthopaedic surgery resident. It may seem expected and cliche that becoming a mother is, of course, the transformative moment in a female physician’s career. But, the downstream effects of this were not at all what I expected.
Who was I before this moment?
I was a confident resident who knew she deserved to be there. Yes, I was a female in a male-dominated field, but I didn’t think I was all that different than my male peers. I was a former D1 athlete. I worked hard for all the things in medical school to set me up for success in ortho: scoring optimally on my USMLE exams, getting junior AOA, excelling on my clinical rotations.
When I opened my letter on Match Day, there was no doubt in my mind that I deserved to be going to one of the best ortho programs in the country.
Who was I after this moment?
On the L&D ward, I imagined telling our department chair I was quitting. I felt an immense guilt that I was bringing my son into the world 9 weeks early and he would spend the first months of his life in the NICU. The cause of preterm labor is multifactorial, but it will always weigh on me that it was my work that pushed me to this point and put my son in danger. He is a happy, albeit small, 6-year-old now, but I still carry this guilt.
It was shortly after becoming a mother I received my first negative feedback as a resident. I remember crying in our program director’s office as he delivered my semi-annual review. You’re slipping. You’re not the same resident you were before.
Of course I wasn’t. Of course any resident who becomes a mother during training is going to be different than she was before. She now has the challenges of even more sleep deprivation, trying to breastfeed, trying to figure out childcare without a full-time caregiving spouse, all the while still trying to become an orthopaedic surgeon. I returned to taking call just three weeks after delivering, when my son was still admitted at the NICU.
I was met with support in my department, but I was also met with comments like “Female residents shouldn’t have children during residency.” Becoming a mother was the best thing that could have happened to me as a physician. I would never take it back. It changed my perspective on health care and humanity in general.
But it was also the point where I lost my confidence. I fell from grace in the department. I started to feel like maybe I didn’t belong after all. It was the revelation that the playing fields for men and women are, in fact, not the same.
Although I lost my confidence, I gained perspective. From that point on, my career has unfolded in an unconventional way and I developed the strength to pivot. I know what my priorities are and have made choices to stick to those things.
There have been many times since that moment when I was in labor when I have considered quitting: After I had two miscarriages later in residency. After I didn’t match into fellowship. After my first job didn’t turn out like I thought it would. I am resilient, but weathering these storms called me to question whether I belong here and further eroded my confidence.
But, I do belong here. I am now, and still, a practicing board-certified orthopaedic surgeon. I find my work demanding, yet fulfilling. I firmly believe that women physicians deserve a fighting chance in this sphere. Up to 40% of women go part-time or leave clinical medicine within six years of finishing training. It is not hard to see why. We face different challenges, and sometimes enough is enough.
My career path is still unfolding. As I reflect on this defining moment and its repercussions, I find myself analyzing the tools that kept me in the game. I am determined to organize these things in a way to help give other women a fighting chance of sticking with it. Stay tuned.
Christina Hajewski, MD, is a board-certified orthopaedic surgeon in Olympia, WA, and a proud mother of two.
Illustration by April Brust
