surgery, sacrifice, & balance

There are many days in my world where I feel like I’m living two lives — one where I’m in the OR, gowned and gloved, suction in one hand and a hemostat in the other. And another, where I’m wiping sticky hands, packing lunches, doing laundry, and trying to remember where I left my right shoe.

I’m a surgical tech and a mom. Both of those jobs are about holding things together. Time management, organization, attention to detail, and teamwork. One with clamps, cauteries, and sterile fields. The other with goldfish crackers and grace.

And I love both. So fiercely. But no one talks about how it feels to live in the in-between. To go from an intense, demanding, challenging OR work life to hugs and snuggles at home.

It’s a little bit of whiplash.

People call working moms “strong” for doing it all, but the truth is, I’m often hanging by a thread. I’ve learned to run on adrenaline and cold coffee. I’ve cried on the drive home—more times than I care to admit. I’ve come home late because of emergency surgeries. I’ve learned to snap back into focus even when my heart is aching, from missing my kids during the day.

But I also know this: I am showing my kids what womanhood really looks like.

It’s not always neat. It’s not always pretty. Sometimes it’s scrubs at 3am, and a messy bun that’s been up for two days. Sometimes it’s guilt — the kind only working moms know. But it’s pride, too. Because I’m showing them what dedication looks like. What sacrifice means. That caring deeply — for your work, your people, and your loved community members — is holy ground.

And on the days when I wonder if I’m doing any of it well, I remember that I’m not just making a living. I’m making a life. A life where my kids know they are loved beyond words, and where they also see their mom stepping into her calling with purpose and strength.

Womanhood isn’t about choosing one role over another. It’s about carrying both — career and caregiving — with as much grace as you can muster, and forgiving yourself when it all spills over.

There’s power in the OR. But there’s an undeniable beauty and comfort in the bedtime stories, the lullaby, and the quiet “I love you” at the end of an exhausting shift.

I may be balancing scalpels and schedules, but this is my womanhood in full form. Raw, relentless, and rising.