I Would Follow Him

I remember kneeling in my college dorm room and asking my Father in Heaven to help me realize my dream of becoming a doctor. I told Him I didn't know how it would all work out with what seemed to be competing hopes of marriage and family, but that I had faith that if He assisted me on this path I would make sure to glorify Him and give thanks.

My desire to pursue medicine found expression in the hymn, Lord, I Would Follow Thee, particularly this line,

I would be my brother’s keeper;
I would learn the healer’s art.
To the wounded and the weary
I would show a gentle heart.

A healer! Not only did the science of medicine capture my attention, but this concept of healing brought me closer to understanding Christ's ministry, which centered on closing wounds both physical and spiritual.

At the end of college I bid a temporary farewell to my boyfriend, Tim, a returned missionary and California boy, to do lab research for a year just outside my hometown of Chicago. Though the lab was reachable by train, I ended up requesting on-site housing because the environment in my home had become unbearable due the tension surrounding my conversion to the Church of Jesus Christ. It was a lonely time for me, and each day I prayed that Tim would be able to find a job in Chicago so that we could start our life together.

I still came home on the weekends and I dreaded Sundays the most because my determination to attend church was viewed as rebellion. The ensuing arguments drove away the Spirit and after a while I gave up going. At this point I was feeling very anxious about my life. I couldn't seem to find peace, and watching my friends move on to graduate school and/or start families while I lived in uncertainty made me feel left behind despite how happy I was for them. I turned to my grandparents, Mel and Norma, who were my pillars of strength and they encouraged me to act with love for Jesus Christ and show faith in Him. I reflected on that advice and pondered on which things I still had control. It dawned on me that I hadn't paid tithing and I began to have hope that if I offered this simple sacrifice, God would truly pour out His blessings for my relief (Malachi 3:10).

The following Sunday I set out early to make it to sacrament meeting before my departure would be considered "disruptive" by my parents. I couldn't wait to pay my tithing and settle into the pews. It felt good to be back, and I was enjoying having some time to myself to sit and ponder when a young returned missionary named Roy sat next to me. Thinking he had a romantic interest I quickly informed him that, "I [had] a boyfriend and, by the way, could [he] help him find a job?" Roy (who I later learned was just trying to be friendly, and was dating his future wife) didn't miss a beat. He smiled and asked for more info.

Within a month both Tim and I had interviews in Chicago. His was at a position with Roy's company; mine were for medical school. The momentum kicked in from there: Tim got the job and moved to Chicago, I was accepted to my top choice program, and we got engaged! My parents' reaction to our decision to marry in the temple was not warm (to say the least), but even this setback seemed surmountable because Grandpa Mel and Grandma Norma were going to house me in their tiny apartment until our wedding so that I could find respite. Everything was turning out well, and to this day my testimony of tithing is rock solid because of these clear blessings as its result.

I had been a member of the Church for a little less than three years at this point and I was so glad life could be lived with the simple premise: obedience means everything will work out perfectly! ... So imagine my shock and dismay when I came back from a temple open house to learn that while I was gone my family had been in a horrific car accident. Grandma Norma was dead; Grandpa Mel was hospitalized (and would never come home), and my mother had broken bones. This time is still a blur to me, but I remember a funeral that seemed to be immediately followed by my white coat ceremony for medical school. The one and only photo from that day shows me trying to muster a smile with my family around me, my mother notably in a wheelchair and my grandparents' absence leaving a gaping hole from which I have yet to recover.

How was I to learn the healer's art now that I had my own broken heart to struggle with? I wasn't sure. When I was at school it was easy to put aside my emotions because I was around other people and the amount of information put in front of me was all-consuming. At night, however, I felt lonely and generally depressed being in my grandparent's apartment without them. My wedding was only 5 months away, and Tim and I would see each other most evenings, but when it was time for him to leave I started to fall apart. I wasn't sleeping well and this was affecting my school performance. Again I pleaded with my Father in Heaven, begging Him to deliver me from this nightmare. The response that came to me was akin to what Elder Baxter described his mother hearing during a most desperate prayer, "...You can’t come to me now. … But I can come to you."

And He did come, through friendship and acts of service from others. Notably, Tim had created a music playlist for studying that included a classical composition that gave me hope. Something about its progression made me feel closer to Heaven, nearer to relief. This song played as another first year medical student named Sonia and I were preparing for one of our many big exams and she perked up, smiled, and said she was the composer's great-niece. What were the chances of that? It seemed fateful, so I got to know her better and quickly realized she lived in the apartment building right behind where I was staying! We became fast friends and she took me in. No more lonely nights, only late ones between new buds studying anatomy and biochemistry. Sonia and I are dear friends to this day, and I credit her for helping me to survive this rough chapter of my life.

Tim and I were married in the Redlands California temple in 2003, just a few days after my anatomy final. I remember marinating my hands in perfumed lotions to rid them of the formaldehyde smell in time to place them across the altar. I also recall the confusion in my heart as we celebrated an ordinance centered on family while my own was absent (we finally received their blessings, but none would join us for the wedding festivities). I had made the correct choice, so why did I feel punished? I had always been an obedient daughter, so why did I have to work so hard for approval? These conflicting emotions would follow me through the early years of marriage, especially as my schoolwork intensified and outsiders grew concerned I had placed career before motherhood.

I was wrapping up my first year of medical school and Tim had decided to tack on a part-time MBA  when our bishop invited us to become temple workers. He said this would provide a beautiful foundation for our marriage, and guide in making important decisions together. We weren't sure how this would fit into our busy schedules, but this felt right for us. We began our temple service on Saturday mornings and after our shift we made sure to spend time in the celestial room for what we considered to be check-ins with God. Was He still supportive of our ambitious career paths? Should we start now to have children? For years the answer was 'yes' to the first question; 'not now' for the second. Having this answer come to us clearly in prayer, in the House of the Lord, gave us the confidence to proceed with our choices and not mind (too much) when others supposed we were dragging our feet to have children.

I successfully completed medical school and chose a residency program in physical medicine and rehabilitation. This is a specialty centered on helping people heal after they have suffered a loss of some kind. The first year of training, also known as intern year, was in general medicine and it was brutal. I had a long commute and was working more than 80 hours most weeks. I began to regret ever choosing this career path! By the grace of God I survived it. As I settled into my chosen specialty I remembered why I went into the medical field, and I wanted nothing more than a simple routine to refocus. That, of course, is when the Spirit whispered it was time to start having children.

In 1Nephi 3:7 we learn that, "the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them," but that doesn't mean the task is easy. Having a child during residency, even a non-surgical one, was no simple feat. I had terrible nausea from pregnancy and couldn't even step foot in the kitchen without gagging. Tim took over all the cooking and never once complained. When I delivered our baby boy in 2009, our lives became a team effort involving friends and family.  I am thankful my parents came around to put our differences aside to love their grandson. They went from being vehemently opposed to the mere mention of the Gospel, to making sure they were present for the primary program at church. This little guy became everyone's number one priority, but being a doctor and taking care of patients drew the remainder of my time and energy. Often my marriage felt like two ships sailing past each other in the night. Tim and I refer to this time simply as "survivor mode."

Despite the hardships, there were tender moments that demonstrated God's championing of our efforts. The one that stands out the most is when our little guy was two years old and had come down with a fever one morning. He looked absolutely miserable. I was supposed to drop him off with a friend whom we had hired to care for him while I was away taking care of veterans in clinic. Most of these patients traveled from far away to get their aches and pains addressed. I felt conflicted because I did not want to cancel on them, but how could I leave my son when he was feeling so sick? I prayed to have the strength to do the right thing, and just then my toddler laid himself out at the bottom of the stairs, his head sweaty. With a penitent heart I called my clinic to inform them I would not be coming in that day. The secretary was quick to inform me I would be upsetting a lot of people, some who were likely en route and had been waiting for this appointment for some time. Then she said, "I... I don't believe it. I don't know how this happened but, your clinic was never scheduled for today." The love of God washed over me in that moment. He was in the details of my motherhood, even my duty to patients.

By the time I completed training my life looked very different from when I started this path, and I knew I had transformed and even saved others' lives, as well. Nevertheless I had an unsettling feeling I should forego my career altogether. How could this be a bad thought if it would allow me to stay at home with my son, and our daughter on the way? Yet I couldn't find peace, even when I weighed every pro and con. Nothing seemed clear. I poured out my concerns to God who listened intently, and I waited for an answer. None came. Frustrated, I began asking around for advice and I heard it all. I would be "wasting" my education if I stayed at home! I could never be fulfilled if I continued to "neglect" my children! I stopped asking after seeing this pattern of extremes develop. One week, however, I kept bumping into a young man who I hadn't seen in years. I found it odd, and finally I blurted, "I'm looking for answers and I keep finding you. Do you have something to say about whether or not I should continue doctoring?" He didn't seem surprised by this non sequitur. He simply grinned and told me about his own mother. She went back to school while he and his siblings were youth, first for her masters, and then for a PhD in psychology. He said she became an example to her children, teaching them the value of an education. At this time she was actively serving as a medical missionary, and they could not be more proud of her. He added that he never once felt overlooked. This was exactly what I needed to hear, and it taught me something: The best choice will not look the same for everyone; it will be what your Father in Heaven has in store for you.

I took a part-time job after residency because I knew the demands of a second pregnancy would wear me thin. Little did I know this would also trigger an autoimmune response that would cause chronic pain and debilitating flares beginning in 2012 after the birth of our daughter. I couldn't make sense of it. Why did Heavenly Father carry me this far only to drop me into the pit of health problems? For years I wondered, feeling inadequate at both parenting and doctoring because I was drained by my disease. I finally managed to get off of steroids using medical insights from Sonia. When I became unexpectedly pregnant in 2015 it was not ideal because I still had high levels of inflammation, but I took this as a sign that my body was stronger than I had given it credit. Unfortunately, I ended up having an early miscarriage that showed me I could in fact sink deeper than where I had been, and made me resent the "foolish" hope I had.

It was in this low of lows that God forecasted a victory greater than what I had lost. This is what He told me as I bled. This is the vision He shared as I couldn't make it past my bed, as I doubled the injections of immunosuppressants. But how? The simple answer is, by placing all my trust and following Him because the only way out was up. I partnered with another female physician (and mother) to have a successful fourth pregnancy in 2017. Then I received a blessing informing me that I could apply my knowledge to piece together my disease, and I set about to do just that. It didn't happen overnight, but by 2019 I was off all medications and feeling like a new person. If you can believe it, in the middle of this health transformation I went back for additional training in a new field called clinical informatics, which has provided me with countless opportunities to lead and serve, all while having more flexibility to spend time with Tim and the children. A true godsend.

Last year I met a young woman who asked me if she could join the Church and still have a career and a family. I told her I'm a wife, mother, and a doctor and she was was visibly relieved. I explained how each step of my life has been taken with consideration and prayer, and in this we can find peace no matter which path we choose or find ourselves on. She said many things that reminded me of myself at her same age, including her tendency to "people please," which caused me to reflect on when I felt the Lord's timeline for starting a family made me appear as a slothful servant. Looking back I could see that if I had had my children any sooner, I would have triggered my disease without the medical knowledge to fight it. Not only would I not have my baby today, but I likely would have been stuck with a chronic disease that would prevent me from mothering to my full potential. I had learned the healer's art for my patients, and indeed myself. And now another verse from Lord, I Would Follow Me stands out:

Find in thee my strength, my beacon,
For thy servant I would be.

How grateful I am to be at this point, to see the hand of the Lord carry me this far, and His loving mercy penetrate the details of my life. All glory to God. Amen.