8 ~ Embracing Eight Years at Emerson Health: The Backstory ~ 8

LinkedIn reminded me recently that I have been at Emerson Health for eight years. Wild stuff. I was going to write a reflection on what I learnt (some of that is right at the end), but somehow this morphed into the backstory, which I don’t think I’ve ever publicly shared before. I will include a trigger warning in here, content includes my experience as a single pregnant woman in the health system and housing insecurity.

Eight years ago, when I first stepped through the doors of a suburban accountant with a 4-month old baby in my arms (I know - insane, right!?) I had just been through the most challenging year of my life at the time. I had an unplanned pregnancy which was quite a distressing experience for me. I spent the first trimester oscillating between panic and hormonally-induced exhaustion as I slept on my father’s sofa, sorting out what I was going to do, and where I was going to live.

Through my second trimester I worked 7 days a week delivering two full-time consulting projects, which I did in order to save a nest egg that would get me through my upcoming period of surprise maternity leave. I rented a flat and hoped to settle in for the unknown journey ahead.

Eight years ago, Sydney’s property market was still booming and that flat I had rented and settled into was promptly listed for sale, requiring vacant possession. And so in my third trimester, and less than six months before I started Emerson Health, my baby shower was repurposed and some incredible friends helped me move house that day. 

When I think about it now, from a social perspective - I was quite an incredibly vulnerable woman - bundled together with a certain level of health literacy and system knowledge that enabled me to advocate for myself and implicitly the welfare of my unborn child. But until I was in the thick of it, I didn’t realise that in the medical model, pregnant women lost agency for themselves the moment there was a foetus inside them. Despite how angsty this might sound, I am grateful for this experience, because look at the trajectory it set me on! Without it I would almost certainly be telling a different story today. 

I carried my test results with me in a folder to every medical appointment, because of ethics and self-interest. I felt so strongly that it was a poor use of public funds to order tests twice just because you couldn’t find the results. And from a practical perspective, carrying my own results saved me every instance of unnecessary duplicated travel and absence from work (I truly, did not have the time...and I am an optimiser from way back!) 

Tiny tweaks back then would have made maternity services immeasurably more consumer-friendly and likely more cost efficient: patient-selected appointment slots, interoperable test results no matter the provider, virtual care for visits where the patient did not need to be physically examined…and yes before you murmur to yourself, I had more than one appointment where nobody touched me and no measurements or observations were taken!

I read clinical papers, policies and practice standards about pregnancy and gestational diabetes, until I could quote the most recent research to my treating clinicians as they challenged the decisions I made about my health care. I systematically ate carbohydrates through the day in 15g lots, including waking at 3am every night to eat something so the blood sugar levels for the morning finger prick test would be in range. Too many ‘bad’ results would would have guaranteed me insulin (fine) but also a place birthing in the hospital ward with a high probability of an induction and a possible caesarian that I strongly wished to avoid. I even expressed and froze colostrum. It's hard to do! As I write this now I am a bit shocked at how far I went to improve the probability of having the birth experience I wanted.

Throughout this time, my amazing GP fielded calls from the concerned Head of Department at the hospital, assuring them that I was a capable woman making informed decisions about my healthcare.

The pregnancy bit ended quite well: I had a vaginal birth, no stitches necessary, and shortly after I wheeled Emerson up to the room where I was to spend the next few days in the hospital. I quickly realised that I was very fortunate indeed, because most other women were transported to their rooms in a wheelchair, pushed by their partner - and nobody was going to be pushing me.

As the reality of a newborn child struck, I was forced to choose between eating or showering. I spent hours breastfeeding and pumping so my son consumed breast milk during those first three months because … that’s what good mothers do! (Tongue in cheek. You’re all good mothers and food has nothing to do with it). I wish I had rested more instead. It is any wonder the mental health of new mothers is so precarious? The nurse who visited us at home never picked up my son’s tongue tie but yes I did have to demonstrate my breastfeeding skills on several occasions to her. The hospital forgot to invite me to the mother’s group, so I never had the chance to connect with other mothers who had children of the same age. Being a sole parent is pretty isolating, you'd think I'd have been at the front of the queue for social inclusion and informal supports. And I’m just one person, one story, one birth journey!

After that experience I started Emerson Health because I was someone who understood how the health system worked, and I had still had a pretty traumatic time. I wished for a world where every person has a good healthcare experience and outcome (I'm being realistic here - it does not have to be platinum coated, but it does have to be good.) Emerson Health's mission is so deeply personal that I could not walk away from it if I tried. We help the health system live up to its fullest potential, for every patient encounter, without compromise. It is a non-judgemental mission, but it is also aspirational. And now you know why it is what it is.

So, reflecting on 8 years at Emerson Health: I gave some thought to the journey and scrawled it on a page. As it turns out, I’m more proud of how I took calculated risks and lived with the consequences, than I am of the accomplishments. My best learning experiences have been achieved through failures and setbacks. And finally - the people I’ve met along the way - you know who you are, as you read this - all I can say is, what a privilege to have crossed paths with you on this journey so far. 😍😍 You are total highlights!!