Listen to my Story
I attended a powerful weekend of community and inspiration with some dedicated, passionate, integrative healers, all committed to improving health care for children. One of the experiential workshops was called Narrative Medicine, the heART of Healing. In fifteen minutes, each of us had to write about an event or a patient in our lives that had changed who we were professionally and personally. As the room fell silent and pens began to move across paper, I realized that the time had come for me to share my journey of infertility.
It was like an epiphany. Until that moment I had not really understood how much it had shaped me as person and a doctor. I had struggled for years to conceive a baby. I had ridden that desperate roller coaster of hope and disappointment countless times. I had put my faith completely in science, cutting edge technology, famous medical centers across the US. After ten years of trying and trying with no success, I was exhausted, disillusioned, and deeply sad. I had tried every fertility procedure and drug known to man. I had to take a break and step back. Science was empty without connection to spirit.
I began to find ways to nourish myself. I turned to what were commonly referred to as complementary healing methods; Reiki, Crystals, Flower essences, Reflexology, Prayer, Yoga, Meditation, Taichi, Herbs and Supplements. I changed the way I ate, slept, exercised, thought. But the most important thing I did was to let go. I learned how to surrender. And from that act of Grace, flowed two healthy pregnancies and two beautiful daughters. This forever changed the way I practiced pediatrics. Every baby and child became as precious as the ones I had been waiting for. The agony and ecstasy I had experienced opened my heart, I was able to empathize with the agony and ecstasy of my patients’ experiences. The gratitude I feel for the journey of infertility overwhelms me as I realize all the gifts, I have received from it.
As I read my words back to my colleagues during the workshop, I was touched by how present they were for me. How they leaned in as I spoke. How they gave me their full attention. And I had another epiphany. The simple act of telling my story, my narration, and the graceful act of it being received so lovingly in that room, healed me on yet another level. They listened to my story.
And it reminded me of how important it is for me to listen to the stories of my patients and their parents. It is not about just taking a history anymore. As Lewis Mehl-Madrona says in his pivotal book, “Narrative Medicine: The Use of History and Story in the Healing Process, “We need to develop an approach that will allow the patient and his or her family to be active collaborators in the healing process”. I felt seen, heard, affirmed, and healed with just 5 minutes of attention. I know my patients and their parents deserve the same loving presence from me too.