Yes, the rumor is true….

For the last years I have seen Facebook posts on various community pages asking if I was retiring. On July 15 I will celebrate my 30th anniversary of practicing pediatrics. I came right out of residency to join three great pediatricians at a group known then as North Point Pediatrics, affiliated with St. Anthony Medical Center in Crown Point, Indiana.

On August 28, 2026, I will see my last patients, chart my last note, hand in my ID, and end a career that I dedicated just a bit over half of my life to. I make this announcement more than six months from the date, as my employer informed the nursery staff and referring OB/Gyns of my retirement a few days ago. I know word travels fast in our great and growing community. Juicy rumors can be put to rest now.

Two years ago I almost left my current practice for another location. I had the contract in my hand (more like document in my email) and just had to sign. With a great deal of prayer and family input, I decided to stay and finish my medical career with Franciscan Health. I was questioning – was the grass greener on the other side? Thankfully I found out less than a year later that the other health care system had problems, and I may not have been in a better place, but instead with more headaches and uncertainty.

I am often told I am a strong woman. Now I have no problem agreeing with this, since any parent that has lost a child, especially a loss due to suicide, is strong. The life path parents take after they lose a child to suicide is varied. Some go back to their same career full-time, some part-time, or change careers. Some never work again. My employer, partners and staff were so supportive in the first months and year. The first year of loss from suicide is so hard. But the second year – that was worse.

I remember hearing a grieving parent at a support group say the second year was harder. I remember thinking “NO %Y@$*@ way!!!” The first year I was numb with my pain and loss. Work was time where I could not grieve. Driving home from work and on my days off I could not avoid it. The second Christmas without Nolan I was at my lowest.

I had my double life of competent working pediatrician and my home life of complete raw emotional grief. Anyone who has read my posts knows how tiring it was for me to live with my grief still part of my life and continue being me. This September will be ten years since Nolan’s passing.

Grief has been described as the loss of an “assumptive world,” in that the generalized sense of predictability and stability of the world has been challenged . Accordingly, clinical approaches have emphasized the need to help the survivor find meaning and a sense of purpose for both the deceased’s life and his or her own life in order to regain a sense of well-being .- C.Rogers, J Fam Psychol. 2008 Apr;22(2):203–211.

My life purpose since Nolan passed was to be a good general pediatrician, and to practice with my heart-felt concern: I cannot be a psychiatrist or therapist, but I can help address the growing issue that was and still is pushing our pediatric population to crisis – rising rates of anxiety, depression and behavioral issues. I think most of you would agree OUR “assumptive world” has changed. Things are not stable nor secure. Yet this is the life I have lived, “my after” for almost ten years. I have been living in bizzarro world already – so none of our world changes is shocking to me.

You may ask —- What am I going to do when I retire?

I need to take care of myself and my family. We are not a big family. Some of us are functioning and others are needing more attention. When you lose a loved one to suicide your life is on a completely different course: you have the before and the after. The after is really hard. You never can go back to the before life. And the after life brings a great amount of stress, anxiety and loneliness. Yes, even many years later it can be difficult. I am smart that I learned from others and allowed myself to feel the depth of my loss.

I don’t know what will be my next career. I know it will not involve medicine. I am not going to another practice and sorry to say, I will not be giving medical care via FB, Messenger or any way you try and reach me. Please don’t try. I need to have some time where I can be a wife, mother, sister, aunt, and friend first and only. Starting August 29 it will be me-time, full time. Maybe I will relearn classical guitar. I WILL spend more time with the people I love. I will breathe deep while I play with my potted plants and flowers this summer. Read more. Walk outside. Write. Travel. Dream.

I won’t leave my community. Look for me at the Y, on the bike path, at the store. But if you show me your kid’s rash in aisle 4 at Strack’s, I will hug you, wish only the best for you and your family, and gently tell you to contact their medical provider for advice.

What I might have been soon be next.

My time to explore is coming.

Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your child’s health and care. What an honor it is.

My House of Grief- in a different light

When I first started my blog I wrote an entry called “My House of Grief.” https://grievingdoctormom.blog/2018/04/11/my-house-of-grief/

This is one of my favorite blog entries as it communicated my first years of emotions on my grief journey. I still feel these emotions, yet not as crazy and exhausting as I did back then.

Fast forward many years to this past week when Ashley, Tiffany and I represented Golden Hope Ministries (http://www.goldenhopemin.org) attending the 27th annual symposium held by the National Alliance for Children’s Grief in Denver, Colorado. We had three days of networking and meetings on how to serve children and their families that are grieving the loss of a family member.

We had the opportunity to tour Judi’s House located in Aurora, Colorado. In 2002, former NFL quarterback Brian Griese and his wife, Dr. Brook Griese, a clinical psychologist specializing in childhood trauma and loss, founded Judi’s House in memory of Brian’s mother, Judi. Brian was 12 years old when Judi passed away from breast cancer.

Judi’s House is a community-based nonprofit bereavement center for children and families with the vision that no child should be alone in grief. In 2014, Judi’s House launched the Jag Institute. The institute provides evaluation, research, and training opportunities which they share with other bereavement programs in the US and worldwide.

All participants of the symposium – over 600- were in invited to tour this magnificent house, built in 2022, and their third location since inception.

This house is a dream for any grief support program/service to tour. In this huge structure, areas are thoughtfully designed to welcome a child and their family in a loving environment. Rooms are designated for meal sharing, individual therapy, outside gardens, grief education/intern education, group therapy, research, play therapy, administration and more. We took over an hour to tour the place.

With hundreds of people touring the location, Ashley, Tiffany and I wandered around. We thought we explored all the areas but realized we did not see an important one: the group therapy rooms. This area has many rooms where children can meet by age group and adults can meet as a group. As we entered the hallway I noted how this area held the most number of quilts.

After a child/family has finished a 10 session program of group therapy they are welcomed to complete a square for the quilt. This square honors the loved one they have lost. As you can see from the above photo each square is made in memory of their family member that had passed.

Down the group therapy hall you see the walls lined with these quilts. All the therapy rooms have the quilts lining the walls as well. Each quilt holds 15 squares. Multiply this by at least 15 quilts or more in this hall, and each large therapy room holding 5 or more quilts.

Walking in this hall…. this is when I became overwhelmed.

Throughout Judi’s house the quilts are everywhere. But in this hallway I felt the sum of those loved ones memorialized by these quilts. These were thousands of people remembered. In this hall, with the excitement the house filled with visitors, I felt overwhelming love; overwhelming presence of energy of the spirits that were at that moment, watching over the crowd of visitors that appreciated what Judi’s house does.

I started to cry. And really couldn’t stop. Ashley and Tiffany gave me comfort and I tried to explain to them what I was feeling. I don’t think I communicated it well to them. I needed them to understand that I wasn’t sad and missing Nolan (well, I am always missing him), but I was crying from the intensity of love and energy in this area I was feeling.

The house had such a welcoming feeling and I thought – why would the energy of those that had passed not want to be a part of this ?? This was a gathering of people that support their loved ones and so many others that are grieving.

It was an experience. It reminded me of my raw days of the first week after Nolan had passed. That week I was stripped away from the usual, the normal of everyday life and was thrown into the chaos of deep, deep grief. The sleepless nights and shock of loss left me to feel emotions with great intensity. I remember feeling the most love and caring I have ever felt from family, friends and many others. It is a feeling no words can really describe.

In my prior “house of grief” I was alone. It was very unlike Judi’s house.

I did have a room in my house that did bring me happiness and comfort. I had a room that I called the “helping others” room.

Back then I had no idea this is where I would be today – helping others through Golden Hope Ministries.

Please check us out.

http://www.goldenhopemin.org

Will we be as big as Judi’s House twenty years from now? I don’t know. We will focus on who we can help, be it one child and their family.

Because – as Judi’s house says- no child should grieve alone.

It is going to get better, isn’t it?

This cartoon is me.

Is it you too? Probably.

With election day this week, cases of corona virus surging, work pressures, financial strain and the holidays just weeks away you can’t tell me you aren’t feeling some amount of stress.

It reminds me of how I felt when Nolan left for school a second time, when he appeared to be at his best and chose to attend and live at Valpo University.

I was overwhemed with anxiety.

Initially I couldn’t sleep. I texted him daily. How are you? Did you go to class? Did you take your medication?

I had done all I could before he left for school. I had my responsibilities as his parent and I did the best I could. I had to trust him.

I had to let go.

I called and told him I could not keep checking on him daily . I trusted that he would call me if he needed something. He told me thank you. He understood and I know he was relieved I wasn’t stressing about him.

One month later he was gone.

But you know what? I am still here. Four years later I am still breathing, living, working, loving and smiling.

How did I deal with my worry about Nolan? How do I handle my anxiety now?

Take 4 minutes and listen…

So when you wake up at 3am and your brain starts thinking about all the bad things in the world, all the what ifs, the future we all want to know but cannot predict, and the things you can’t control – try and repeat the phrase.

It might work. It does for me.