By Amanda Goldberg, OD
Before I became a mother, I thought I had a fairly clear picture of what professional success looked like. Work hard. Become a better clinician. Build relationships with patients. Develop expertise. Buy the practice. Keep moving forward.
Then I became a mom.
Motherhood didn’t make me less ambitious. If anything, it made me more aware of how valuable my time, energy and ambition really are, and it made me more intentional about where I want to put those things.
I’m still the optometrist who cares deeply about providing excellent patient care. I still enjoy learning about new treatments, evaluating emerging research and helping patients finally find a solution to their problems. That said, I’m also a mother, and becoming one changed both the doctor I am in the exam room and the way I think about my career outside of it.
MOTHERHOOD CHANGED THE WAY I SEE MY PATIENTS
Before having children, I wondered why some parents in my exam chair always seemed so tired and distracted. After becoming a parent myself, I finally understood that exhaustion.
I understand the parent who arrives five minutes late because getting three toddlers out the door that morning required plenty of bribing while packing four bags, 12 snacks and somehow finding everyone’s shoes. I understand the mother trying to listen to my recommendations while simultaneously thinking about daycare pickup, dinner and whether the cough her child woke up with is going to turn into another week at home. I also understand the mom who realizes halfway through her appointment that she hasn’t worn her contacts in weeks because her eyes have been too dry, but treating them has been somewhere below buying diapers, scheduling pediatrician appointments and remembering to feed herself lunch.
Our own health can fall to the bottom of the list surprisingly quickly. That perspective has made me a more empathetic doctor. It has reminded me that the person sitting in my exam chair has a life that extends far beyond the diagnosis I am discussing.
A treatment plan can be clinically perfect and still fail if it doesn’t work within the context of someone’s actual life. In my practice, particularly with my dry eye patients, we often begin the evaluation not with corneal staining or meibomian gland function but with a deeper look at their lifestyle. A heat mask, lid hygiene and medicated eye drops may seem like a straightforward starting plan, but not if the patient in my chair has a newborn and hasn’t had a full night’s sleep in months. Finding 10 uninterrupted minutes for a heat mask may currently feel impossible.
Maybe, for now, the recommendation is to wear glasses instead of contact lenses and buy that cute, special-edition Stanley water bottle if it reminds her to stay hydrated throughout the day. Sometimes the best treatment plan isn’t the most comprehensive one; it’s the one built around small, manageable changes a patient can realistically follow at that stage of life.
THE MENTAL SHIFT BETWEEN DOCTOR AND MOM
One of the strangest parts of becoming a working mom has been learning how quickly we’re expected to move between two completely different worlds.
One minute, I may be discussing a complicated diagnosis, reviewing imaging or coordinating care with another provider. A few minutes later, I’m checking my phone between patients to see whether the preschool has called, mentally calculating whether I can make pickup on time or trying to remember whether tomorrow is pajama day, picture day or bring-something-that-starts-with-the-letter-P day.
There isn’t always a graceful transition between the two.
And while “work-life balance” is a phrase we hear constantly, I’m not sure balance is really what most working mothers experience. Some days I feel completely present at work, while other days my children need more of me. Most days are some combination of both.
I’ve stopped expecting every day to feel perfectly balanced. Instead, I think more about whether my life feels aligned with what matters to me over time.
MOTHERHOOD DIDN’T MAKE ME LESS AMBITIOUS
Before having children, success often felt like it was measured by how much I could do. More patients. More responsibility. More hours. More opportunities. After becoming a mother, my definition changed. I don’t want to accomplish less—I want to be more intentional about what I accomplish.
For many women, motherhood arrives during the same years that our careers are beginning to accelerate. We’ve developed confidence as clinicians. We’ve accumulated experience. We may finally have the expertise to pursue leadership, research, education, industry involvement or other opportunities within our profession.
At the exact same time, our lives outside of work may be demanding more from us than ever before. It can be tempting to interpret the desire for flexibility as a lack of ambition. I don’t think it is. Sometimes flexibility is what allows ambition to continue.
THE DOCTOR I BECAME
I sometimes think about the optometrist I was before becoming a mother. She had more uninterrupted sleep. She could stay late without wondering whether she would make it home before bedtime. She probably finished more tasks in a single sitting, but I wouldn’t trade her for the doctor I am now.
Motherhood has made me more empathetic with my patients, more protective of my time and more thoughtful about the kind of career and life that I’m trying to build.
Most importantly, it’s changed the way I think about success and ambition. I no longer believe success requires saying yes to everything. Sometimes it means knowing which opportunities deserve your “yes.” I’m still ambitious—and just simply much more intentional about where that ambition takes me.
