med schools, residencies, fellowships - oh, my!

This morning J started his PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit) rotation.  He leaves before the sun comes up and gets home long after dark.  It's an especially hard rotation during the winter months because the days are so much shorter.  We miss him terribly, especially Bo who goes to bed between 6:30-7:30, and me who must do the cooking, bathing, baby-wrangling, and bed-time routines alone.  But J loves and is so dedicated to the work - the challenge, the medicine, the critical thinking, the patient care - that goes into PICU.  He loves it so much that he is considering applying for a fellowship.

What is a fellowship?  A fellowship is intensive training in a specialized field.  The length of a fellowship depends on the specialty.  The length of a PICU fellowship is equivalent to that of a pediatric residency - 3 years.  The lifestyle of a PICU attending (doctor speak for "upper level doctor") means long hours... er... longer hours, and is not exactly *my* ideal of a "family-friendly" profession.  J's schooling to date: 4 years of high school + 4 years of college + 4 years of medical school + 1.5 years of residency (he still has a year and a half to go).  For our family a fellowship would mean another 3 years of schooling and a move.  As it stands, the three closest fellowships are Duke, UNC, or Emory, and in *my* opinion, all are waaay too far from home.

I am so against this that I can feel my heels digging in, my back stiffen, and my jaw tighten at the mention of the word "fellowship".  I am comfortable here - in our hometown, close to family and friends, snug in our little home.  I know my way around here.  I enjoy our Sunday night dinners with family.  I like taking Bo to the parks downtown, meeting friends for coffee, shopping the Farmer's Market, having people who love my little family just a few streets away.  I love our libraries and the family-centered feel of this town.  If we were to have more children (eventually) I would want to use my same doula, doctor, and hospital.  I want my children to grow up here - where their parents grew up - close to their family.  I feel like a fellowship puts our life on hold, and I can't think of a single reason to pack up and move who-knows-where for any reason.  But is that good enough?   Are my fears and expectations good enough reasons to keep my husband from fulfilling his professional calling? 

I'll reservedly admit that they probably are not, but I can't help but feel like Dorothy on her trip to see the Wizard.  My heart, my brain, and my courage are all lacking.  When I finally meet the Wizard will I finally realize that, all along, the journey is what was important and the destination was just the motivation I needed to make the trip?