I am sitting on our front balcony in Somerville for probably the last time while these amazing guys pack up all of our stuff. I am very thankful that we are not doing the packing, but also very sad to be leaving. This house has special meaning for us. It’s the first place we’ve owned, Charlotte was born here and learned to take her first steps here. I finally became a “real” doctor while living here. Eddie and I ran lots and lots of miles with this as our home base. And, best of all, we made amazing friends while living here. I’m not quite sure what I’ll do without all of my resident friends to joke around with or complain to; or my mommy friends to go running with and discuss for the 90th time why our children aren’t sleeping/eating/walking/crawling/talking or whatever activity we are currently obsessed with. I’ll miss the coffee shop right in Porter square where they not only know my last name but can spell it. The shopping plaza where I spent hours and hours walking around with Charlotte in the Ergo. Being able to walk to fabulous restaurants and bars and the bike path and Charlotte’s daycare and the train and playgrounds and the grocery store and many different ice cream shops.
I’m also sad to be leaving Charlotte’s “friends.” I’ll miss watching Katelyn grow up and teaching Charlotte new tricks. I’ll miss watching Connor be able to make Charlotte laugh at pretty much everything or Timmy and Rohan constantly asking for Charlotte and then pretty much ignoring her when they finally get together. I’ll miss watching Henry and Simon get to take their first steps and babies Katie and Theo get to be past the “blob stage.” I’ll miss Charlotte’s teachers at daycare (especially Miss Santa) who can somehow magically get her to nap and eat all of her food much better than I can. And who used to patiently walk around holding her hands when she was just learning to walk.
Everyone I talk to says that California is an amazing place to live and that once we move there, we’ll never want to come back. It’s true that I will not miss shoveling snow or running in the freezing cold or the horrible Boston traffic, but that’s pretty much it. I think that I’m ready to be done with being a chief resident, but the thought of being a fellow is somewhat terrifying. Oddly enough, I’m not currently worried about the part that will probably be the hardest: the emotional toll of taking care of very sick kids. Instead, I’m worried about silly things, like learning a new computer system, learning the names of the attendings/residents/nurses, knowing where to get food and go to the bathroom. I’m also quite worried about the hours I will be working. It’s likely that I won’t be home in time to put Charlotte to bed most nights. I worry a little about the effect this will have on her, but I worry more about how my husband will deal with it. On the one hand, I think it will be nice to have a dad who knows his daughter so well. On the other hand, Eddie has already had to put up with A LOT for my career, and it definitely isn’t fair. While I know that he’s happy to be working at Google, I’m sure a small part of him is upset with me for matching in California. If I weren’t a doctor, we could stay here in Boston. So, here’s hoping that I love fellowship and he loves Google and we make great friends so that this move is worth it.
