From the outside, you might see a physician mom getting her kids off to school, caring for patients, and heading home to her family.
What you can’t see is everything she’s carrying in her mind as she moves through that day.
Here’s what that can feel like.
Before the First Patient
She’s glancing at her clinic schedule as she waits for her coffee to brew. She’s gathering the mental strength to get that one child moving and out of the house in time. She can’t afford to be late. She has a full clinic and doesn’t want to start the day behind.
She’s packing everyone’s lunches, including her own, while calculating where everyone needs to be after school and who is going to get them there.
She’s finally out the door with the kids in tow, but someone forgets something and has to run back inside. She snaps because she’s reminded them a million times to have everything ready the night before, and now they all risk being late.
She spends the rest of the car ride feeling guilty for snapping.
Caring for Patients, Carrying the Rest
She makes it to work with her first patient already roomed and waiting. She wishes she’d had more time to transition and address her inbox and results before starting.
She reviews the patient’s chart and heads into the room. Throughout the day, she solves problems, makes decisions, and provides encouragement and care. This work matters to her.
There are moments that remind her why. A patient is finally getting better because she took the time to listen, understand their symptoms, and recognize something that had been missed. It wasn’t about being smarter. Taking that time helped her see the problem differently.
The patient tells her how much better they feel and thanks her for listening. She feels the satisfaction of knowing she made a difference.
Some patients are more complex and require more time and energy. She falls behind. Knowing others are waiting, she puts off closing the more complicated charts, the ones she needs time to think more deeply about, and moves on to the next patient.
Between visits, her inbox fills with patient calls and results. She hasn’t even checked her email. That will have to wait. And then there are those secure chats from staff and colleagues, constantly popping up throughout the day.
The distractions are endless.
If she has time for lunch, she eats quickly and spends the rest of it trying to address calls and results. It’s like playing whack-a-mole: just when she gets them under control, a whole new batch pops up.
As she tries to finish a note, she realizes she forgot to arrange a ride for one of her kids and sends several text messages. Then she’s back to seeing patients and misses a call from the pediatrician’s office.
She’ll be playing phone tag with them again.
Leaving Work Without Leaving It Behind
She finally leaves the building, but her mind hasn’t fully left work.
She’s thinking about the patient to whom she broke bad news and the one whose diagnosis she’s still trying to determine. Would someone smarter have figured it out by now? Is there something she’s missing?
She can’t dwell on this. She has to pick someone up and get them to an activity.
How do those other moms seem so calm and put together? She can’t remember the last time she had a day to herself.
She can’t wait to see her family. She would also love a few moments when nobody needs anything from her.
Both are true.
And then she gets to watch her child doing something they love. Or a conversation unfolds in the car, and she hears something about their day she might otherwise have missed.
Later, there might be a book they read together or a few minutes when her child wants to sit beside her and talk.
She loves these moments. She wants time and energy to enjoy them.
Coming Home
On the way home, she realizes she hasn’t planned dinner. She mentally searches her fridge and pantry for something that might resemble a balanced meal.
Maybe she should just pick something up. She can’t handle one more decision, or the complaints from hungry kids who won’t like what she makes.
Breakfast for dinner is usually an option, but she might be out of eggs.
Takeout it is. She vows to meal prep next time.
Later, she helps with homework and the bedtime routine. The kids start fighting, she loses her patience, and she yells. She immediately regrets it.
She wanted to be more patient tonight.
When the House Finally Gets Quiet
By the time the kids are in bed and she’s straightened up the kitchen, she’s ready to collapse on the couch.
But those open charts and emails are still there, and she can’t relax.
As her computer powers up, she starts scrolling social media. Before she knows it, half an hour has gone by. Nothing has gotten done, and it’s past her bedtime.
She was hoping to get up early to work out. Now she knows that probably won’t happen.
More guilt.
She needs to get to sleep so the cycle can start again tomorrow.
The Expectations Underneath It All
If any of this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. These are stories I’ve lived, and ones many women I’ve spoken with and coached know all too well.
Look back at everything this physician mom expected of herself.
Get everyone out the door on time, despite the interruptions. Give each patient enough time, but stay on schedule. Keep up with messages while being fully present in the exam room.
Then come home from an emotionally demanding day and immediately become a patient, available parent.
Once everyone else is asleep, finish the work. And somehow get enough rest to do it all again.
What are you expecting of yourself at the end of a day like this?
Have you ever questioned those expectations, or have they become requirements you barely notice anymore?
Workload and practical support matter. Some things may need to change in how much you’re carrying or how that work is shared. It’s also worth examining the standards you’re asking yourself to meet within those demands.
For now, notice one expectation you’ve been treating as a requirement. Where did it come from? Is it helping you care for yourself and the people who matter to you? Is there room to approach it differently?
Think back to her standing in the kitchen before the day has even begun. Along with the schedule and the logistics, she’s already carrying an idea of how well she should handle it all.
That’s something we can begin to look at with curiosity and compassion.
You Deserve Support, Too
In coaching, I help physician moms explore the thoughts, expectations, and habits that keep them feeling overwhelmed, and consider what they want to change.
If you recognize yourself in this day and would like support, you can book a complimentary call here. We’ll talk about what you’re experiencing and whether coaching would be a good fit.
