A mom-ent to comment

I read your Letters From Maine column entitled “A defining Mom-ent” with humor and, admittedly, a bit of disbelief. First, allow me to say, I am glad that in 2014, you are sharing and encouraging this mom-ent of awareness. I hope you will also allow me to say, “Really?! It is almost 2015” – (said with humor and exhaustion!)

I am a woman who also is a daughter, wife, parent of two children, pediatrician, and trustee on a foundation. I had the experience of having a pediatrician walk into my hospital room after delivering our youngest child, 4 years ago, and calling me “mother.” It was jarring. I thought to myself, “I am not your mother. Why are you calling me Mom?” I was so tired from having given birth that I did not have the energy to address the complete and utter amazement that term carried at that moment.

Later, it occurred to me that female pediatricians never referred to me as “Mom.” In fact, they referred to me by my name – such a welcome sound after being called everything but my name for days while I recovered from my cesarean section.

Really, what your column is about is that maybe male pediatricians are beginning to realize that assumptions some have made about how to address women who have added the additional facet of motherhood to their identity have known for a long time – we are more than what we do. Women who are physicians and mothers have been aware of this dynamic for a long time.

Kudos to you for being public about your realization and let it also be a call to all pediatricians to check their assumptions and how those assumptions are communicated through language. I think we should all be willing to humbly ask our patients, “What is your preferred name?” It is an icebreaker that imparts respect, humbleness, and kindness in one fell swoop. Thank you again for your thoughts.

Bernetta L. Avery, M.D.

Portland, Ore.

Dr. Wilkoff responds: Great e-mail. I like your suggestion of the icebreaker. I think with your advice I would (if I were still practicing) change my opening line to something like yours. I think it helps a lot of us do the best thing.

The beauty of motherhood 

I just finished reading your article about calling a woman who recently delivered a baby, “Mom.” I appreciate that this is a common scenario for some pediatricians, although I have not had any issue with this and find it very disturbing. As a pediatrician, a wife, an active member of my community, and also a mom, I am happy being called any of those titles. I feel that our society has taken away the beauty of motherhood in so many ways – from politicians assuming that all women voters care about is reproductive rights, to now insulting someone by referring to her as “mom” right after she delivered a baby! She can be insulted all she wants, but the fact is, she is now a mom. And always will be! Very few women are “just” moms, but rather have other interests and skills beyond motherhood. But to assume that by us calling a new mother “Mom,” we are insulting them, is really an insult to motherhood everywhere. I will not change my practice of how I interact with families, but rather will celebrate with these new families and call them by their rightful new “names” – Mom and Dad.

Thank you for the article.

Kathryn M. Cambi, M.D.

Hamden, Conn.

Dr. Wilkoff responds: I received an e-mail from another mother/pediatrician (see above), who after the birth of her first child had a similar experience to the one I related in the column. Although she was troubled, it was not to the degree as the woman I referred to. She said that when she introduces herself, she asks the new mother how she would like to be addressed. I guess that is a reasonable approach, but I agree with you, it is sad that she feels that tip-toeing around the label of motherhood is necessary. I’m glad you are proud to wear the label of “Mom.”

Too lazy

I am a western New York pediatrician in my 25th year of practice, and I find your columns both interesting and down to earth. However, I think your “A defining Mom-ent” column misses an important point.

My path to medicine was circuitous, and I began medical school with a 5-year-old daughter, delivered my second child at the beginning of the third year of medical school, and my third child was born a week after finishing my residency. I was a “multifaceted” (as you say), although somewhat different individual at each of these deliveries, and at each one, I was referred to as “Mom” by a variety of medical personnel – nurses and physicians alike. Each time was uncomfortable, not because I felt my identity was not defined by motherhood alone, but because it appeared that either the individual using the title had been too lazy to check the chart for my name and/or because the use of that title by that individual seemed at best inappropriate and at worst condescending.

“Mom” is both a word and a title (hence capitalized when a title and not when used as a noun) and, as a title, has limited appropriate use. Only my daughters have the right to call me “Mom.”

I ask you, Dr. Wilkoff, how would you feel if the young check-out person at your grocery store concluded your transaction with, “Have a great day, Gramps.”?

Dolores C. Leonard, M.D. (also “Mom” and “Grandma” to select people)

Buffalo

Dr. Wilkoff responds: I received two previous letters from female pediatricians, one who shares your view and experience and one who is untroubled by the issue. I think your point about the inappropriate familiarity is spot on, but clearly the woman who wrote the original letter to the New York Times was having trouble with her identity, a problem that neither you nor the other responders to my column seem to share. Thanks for writing and thanks more for responding.

I read your Letters From Maine column entitled “A defining Mom-ent” with humor and, admittedly, a bit of disbelief. First, allow me to say, I am glad that in 2014, you are sharing and encouraging this mom-ent of awareness. I hope you will also allow me to say, “Really?! It is almost 2015” – (said with humor and exhaustion!)

I am a woman who also is a daughter, wife, parent of two children, pediatrician, and trustee on a foundation. I had the experience of having a pediatrician walk into my hospital room after delivering our youngest child, 4 years ago, and calling me “mother.” It was jarring. I thought to myself, “I am not your mother. Why are you calling me Mom?” I was so tired from having given birth that I did not have the energy to address the complete and utter amazement that term carried at that moment.

Later, it occurred to me that female pediatricians never referred to me as “Mom.” In fact, they referred to me by my name – such a welcome sound after being called everything but my name for days while I recovered from my cesarean section.

Really, what your column is about is that maybe male pediatricians are beginning to realize that assumptions some have made about how to address women who have added the additional facet of motherhood to their identity have known for a long time – we are more than what we do. Women who are physicians and mothers have been aware of this dynamic for a long time.

Kudos to you for being public about your realization and let it also be a call to all pediatricians to check their assumptions and how those assumptions are communicated through language. I think we should all be willing to humbly ask our patients, “What is your preferred name?” It is an icebreaker that imparts respect, humbleness, and kindness in one fell swoop. Thank you again for your thoughts.

Bernetta L. Avery, M.D.

Portland, Ore.

Dr. Wilkoff responds: Great e-mail. I like your suggestion of the icebreaker. I think with your advice I would (if I were still practicing) change my opening line to something like yours. I think it helps a lot of us do the best thing.

The beauty of motherhood 

I just finished reading your article about calling a woman who recently delivered a baby, “Mom.” I appreciate that this is a common scenario for some pediatricians, although I have not had any issue with this and find it very disturbing. As a pediatrician, a wife, an active member of my community, and also a mom, I am happy being called any of those titles. I feel that our society has taken away the beauty of motherhood in so many ways – from politicians assuming that all women voters care about is reproductive rights, to now insulting someone by referring to her as “mom” right after she delivered a baby! She can be insulted all she wants, but the fact is, she is now a mom. And always will be! Very few women are “just” moms, but rather have other interests and skills beyond motherhood. But to assume that by us calling a new mother “Mom,” we are insulting them, is really an insult to motherhood everywhere. I will not change my practice of how I interact with families, but rather will celebrate with these new families and call them by their rightful new “names” – Mom and Dad.

Thank you for the article.

Kathryn M. Cambi, M.D.

Hamden, Conn.

Dr. Wilkoff responds: I received an e-mail from another mother/pediatrician (see above), who after the birth of her first child had a similar experience to the one I related in the column. Although she was troubled, it was not to the degree as the woman I referred to. She said that when she introduces herself, she asks the new mother how she would like to be addressed. I guess that is a reasonable approach, but I agree with you, it is sad that she feels that tip-toeing around the label of motherhood is necessary. I’m glad you are proud to wear the label of “Mom.”

Too lazy

I am a western New York pediatrician in my 25th year of practice, and I find your columns both interesting and down to earth. However, I think your “A defining Mom-ent” column misses an important point.

My path to medicine was circuitous, and I began medical school with a 5-year-old daughter, delivered my second child at the beginning of the third year of medical school, and my third child was born a week after finishing my residency. I was a “multifaceted” (as you say), although somewhat different individual at each of these deliveries, and at each one, I was referred to as “Mom” by a variety of medical personnel – nurses and physicians alike. Each time was uncomfortable, not because I felt my identity was not defined by motherhood alone, but because it appeared that either the individual using the title had been too lazy to check the chart for my name and/or because the use of that title by that individual seemed at best inappropriate and at worst condescending.

“Mom” is both a word and a title (hence capitalized when a title and not when used as a noun) and, as a title, has limited appropriate use. Only my daughters have the right to call me “Mom.”

I ask you, Dr. Wilkoff, how would you feel if the young check-out person at your grocery store concluded your transaction with, “Have a great day, Gramps.”?

Dolores C. Leonard, M.D. (also “Mom” and “Grandma” to select people)

Buffalo

Dr. Wilkoff responds: I received two previous letters from female pediatricians, one who shares your view and experience and one who is untroubled by the issue. I think your point about the inappropriate familiarity is spot on, but clearly the woman who wrote the original letter to the New York Times was having trouble with her identity, a problem that neither you nor the other responders to my column seem to share. Thanks for writing and thanks more for responding.

I read your Letters From Maine column entitled “A defining Mom-ent” with humor and, admittedly, a bit of disbelief. First, allow me to say, I am glad that in 2014, you are sharing and encouraging this mom-ent of awareness. I hope you will also allow me to say, “Really?! It is almost 2015” – (said with humor and exhaustion!)

I am a woman who also is a daughter, wife, parent of two children, pediatrician, and trustee on a foundation. I had the experience of having a pediatrician walk into my hospital room after delivering our youngest child, 4 years ago, and calling me “mother.” It was jarring. I thought to myself, “I am not your mother. Why are you calling me Mom?” I was so tired from having given birth that I did not have the energy to address the complete and utter amazement that term carried at that moment.

Later, it occurred to me that female pediatricians never referred to me as “Mom.” In fact, they referred to me by my name – such a welcome sound after being called everything but my name for days while I recovered from my cesarean section.

Really, what your column is about is that maybe male pediatricians are beginning to realize that assumptions some have made about how to address women who have added the additional facet of motherhood to their identity have known for a long time – we are more than what we do. Women who are physicians and mothers have been aware of this dynamic for a long time.

Kudos to you for being public about your realization and let it also be a call to all pediatricians to check their assumptions and how those assumptions are communicated through language. I think we should all be willing to humbly ask our patients, “What is your preferred name?” It is an icebreaker that imparts respect, humbleness, and kindness in one fell swoop. Thank you again for your thoughts.

Bernetta L. Avery, M.D.

Portland, Ore.

Dr. Wilkoff responds: Great e-mail. I like your suggestion of the icebreaker. I think with your advice I would (if I were still practicing) change my opening line to something like yours. I think it helps a lot of us do the best thing.

The beauty of motherhood 

I just finished reading your article about calling a woman who recently delivered a baby, “Mom.” I appreciate that this is a common scenario for some pediatricians, although I have not had any issue with this and find it very disturbing. As a pediatrician, a wife, an active member of my community, and also a mom, I am happy being called any of those titles. I feel that our society has taken away the beauty of motherhood in so many ways – from politicians assuming that all women voters care about is reproductive rights, to now insulting someone by referring to her as “mom” right after she delivered a baby! She can be insulted all she wants, but the fact is, she is now a mom. And always will be! Very few women are “just” moms, but rather have other interests and skills beyond motherhood. But to assume that by us calling a new mother “Mom,” we are insulting them, is really an insult to motherhood everywhere. I will not change my practice of how I interact with families, but rather will celebrate with these new families and call them by their rightful new “names” – Mom and Dad.

Thank you for the article.

Kathryn M. Cambi, M.D.

Hamden, Conn.

Dr. Wilkoff responds: I received an e-mail from another mother/pediatrician (see above), who after the birth of her first child had a similar experience to the one I related in the column. Although she was troubled, it was not to the degree as the woman I referred to. She said that when she introduces herself, she asks the new mother how she would like to be addressed. I guess that is a reasonable approach, but I agree with you, it is sad that she feels that tip-toeing around the label of motherhood is necessary. I’m glad you are proud to wear the label of “Mom.”

Too lazy

I am a western New York pediatrician in my 25th year of practice, and I find your columns both interesting and down to earth. However, I think your “A defining Mom-ent” column misses an important point.

My path to medicine was circuitous, and I began medical school with a 5-year-old daughter, delivered my second child at the beginning of the third year of medical school, and my third child was born a week after finishing my residency. I was a “multifaceted” (as you say), although somewhat different individual at each of these deliveries, and at each one, I was referred to as “Mom” by a variety of medical personnel – nurses and physicians alike. Each time was uncomfortable, not because I felt my identity was not defined by motherhood alone, but because it appeared that either the individual using the title had been too lazy to check the chart for my name and/or because the use of that title by that individual seemed at best inappropriate and at worst condescending.

“Mom” is both a word and a title (hence capitalized when a title and not when used as a noun) and, as a title, has limited appropriate use. Only my daughters have the right to call me “Mom.”

I ask you, Dr. Wilkoff, how would you feel if the young check-out person at your grocery store concluded your transaction with, “Have a great day, Gramps.”?

Dolores C. Leonard, M.D. (also “Mom” and “Grandma” to select people)

Buffalo

Dr. Wilkoff responds: I received two previous letters from female pediatricians, one who shares your view and experience and one who is untroubled by the issue. I think your point about the inappropriate familiarity is spot on, but clearly the woman who wrote the original letter to the New York Times was having trouble with her identity, a problem that neither you nor the other responders to my column seem to share. Thanks for writing and thanks more for responding.