Dr Siew Wai Wong is an Intensivist and CICM Supervisor of Training at a tertiary hospital in Melbourne. She is also a mother of three, a wife, and a friend of all who work with her. Siew Wai’s kindness, compassion and humility shine throughout every aspect of her work. When Siew Wai is on the floor, she fosters a unique sense of calm and unity within the intensive care unit.
When I was asked to write a post for this forum, I felt immensely honoured yet doubtful. I wondered, who would want to hear my story? I'm a very ordinary intensivist. My achievements are far from exciting; I don't have 50 publications, no second fellowship, no special skills that most others don't.
But maybe, just maybe, there's someone out there who might find my story echoes with theirs, comforting them in knowing they are not alone in this journey.
During my training, like many women in medicine, I faced an enduring question: Do I start my family first, or finish my training? As I was nearing the end of my training and preparing for the fellowship exam, it seemed like the right time to start a family.
I made a risky calculation to try for pregnancy in the middle of my exam prep, aiming to pass both the written and oral exams in one go and then go on maternity leave. Naïve, I know. Life doesn’t always go as planned, does it? I fell pregnant, and the timing was completely out of my control, with my baby due between the written and oral exams. Fine, I would now plan to sit for my oral exam immediately after my baby was born.
I spent the entire nine months of my first pregnancy working and studying. On my off days, while other expecting first-time moms were getting their home, life, and heart ready for their new bundle of joy, I spent all my time at my study desk, reading and writing SAQs. As my belly grew, it became harder and harder to sit for those long hours. I sat the written exam at 35-weeks gestation.
And I was studying for the oral exam in the labour suite and on the hospital bed right after delivering my baby. I returned to the hospital within the first week postpartum to do hot cases.
It was way harder than I thought. I couldn’t think straight or perform well due to sleep deprivation, my body was still sore from childbirth, I needed to express milk frequently, and I missed my newborn baby. What was I doing here?
I decided to defer the oral exam and enjoy my baby.
When I returned to work the following year, while trying to settle into work and juggle home life with an infant, I also started preparing for the oral exams again. I had to relearn the entire exam syllabus after staying at home for 10 months.
I remember coming home from work, doing bedtime routines with her, then staying up very late, going through my flashcards while expressing milk. On my off days, instead of spending time with her, I went around town to do hot cases. Battling with mother’s guilt, I knew the only way forward was to give my 100% and do this exam well once and for all.
So, when I held the results of my oral exam in my hand, tears streamed down my face. I was sobbing for my husband, for my baby. I did it, with lots of sacrifices from my whole family. At that moment, all I wanted to do was go home and hug my baby.
Reflecting on my journey in ICU, I acknowledge it can be very hard, especially for trainees, and I sympathize with those on the journey.
When I applied for maternity leave in that very large ICU 10 years ago, my SOT told me they did not know what to do or how best to support me in my training because I was the very first trainee taking maternity leave. It worked out beautifully in the end, and I am forever grateful for the support I received. This whole experience has informed the kind of ICU consultant I want to be. To pay it forward, to continue supporting trainees going through similar challenges.
My own struggles didn't stop the moment I received my fellowship. If I could be honest, it's an ongoing battle within me between the fight to be what I want to be and who I am. For a long time, what I wanted to be was an ideal I created for myself, to strive and to prove myself in a very male-dominated intensive care medicine field (back then, 10-15 years ago). Medicine as a career is hard enough, and without discounting other circumstances and hardships unknown to me, I think being a doctor with a young family is one of the harder circumstances. Each time that I had a baby (and I have three, now aged 10, 7, and 3), my career took a pause for a couple of years. It's hard enough to run a household with three young kids, let alone working enough hours to keep my knowledge and skills up-to-date and pursuing important portfolios at work.
I would not trade my kids for anything. However, I sometimes can't help but wonder, where would I be in my career if I were like my male counterparts, who do not have dependents. A well-respected, senior female intensivist once told me it took her 20 years to fulfil her career goal because she decided to give her time up for her children who needed her. The one advice she gave me was, don’t compare yourself to others; your time will come.
Yes, my time will come, and I believe each step of the way and every struggle I face only makes me more resilient and shapes me to be an SOT who can sympathise with my trainees. And somewhere along the way, I think I have grown to be comfortable with myself. I learned that I do not need to strive to fit in the mould of the type of consultant and leader that everyone else is. I have decided to be true to myself, to give my best to do what I know best, and the way I know that works. While society celebrates masculinity and external display of confidence, I will embrace the strength that comes with meekness, quietness, and gentleness. That’s what made me.
And perhaps in 10 years, I will be in the same position, telling some younger intensivists, your time will come. Hang in there. And be true to yourself.