I am currently an Assistant Professor and Consultant in the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at Mayo Clinic Rochester. My journey began with a BA in Psychology from Amherst College in Massachusetts, followed by a medical degree from Duke University School of Medicine in North Carolina, including a Clinical Research Training certificate program. I then completed my residency in Obstetrics and Gynecology at Albert Einstein College of Medicine in the Bronx, New York, where I stayed on for a two-year Patient Safety Fellowship and served as an Assistant Professor.

Since 2015, I have been board certified by the American Board of Obstetrics and Gynecology. Currently, I serve as Medical Director of the Family Birth Center at Mayo Clinic Rochester and our Department Belonging Leader. My primary research interest is understanding how healthcare professionals cope and recover after adverse or stressful clinical events—a concept known as the Second Victim Experience. Using these insights, I have helped to develop peer support programs and strategies to promote resilience among my colleagues. In fact, I am the Co-Director for the Peer Support Program Healing the Emotional Lives of Peers (HELP) at Mayo Clinic, and I co-founded the Society of OBGYN Hospitalist (SOGH) Team Thrive, which fosters peer support and well-being. I am a member of the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology (ACOG) Peer Support programs.

Over the years, I have taught more than 40 workshops on utilizing peer support after adverse events in the workplace. My clinical research also focuses on improving transitions from prenatal to postpartum care, especially in managing hypertensive disorders of pregnancy and postpartum depression.

On a personal note, I am a proud Puerto Rican woman, born on the mainland and raised primarily in Delaware. My parents grew up in New York City, and I identify as a Nuyorican—a Puerto Rican who was raised in New York. Nine years ago, I moved from New York City to Minnesota with my husband and our three children, who are now in elementary and middle school. Balancing my family and my career, along with my background and experiences, has given me a unique perspective and a deep commitment to improving maternal healthcare for all.

I knew from the age of ten that I wanted to become a doctor. Around that same time, I was diagnosed with dyslexia. While I worked with tutors to improve my reading skills, I found myself deeply interested in math and science, especially genetics. My father, who was the first in our family to attend college and medical school, was a major inspiration for me. He encouraged my passion for teaching and showed me that my interests in math and science could lead to a rewarding career in academic medicine. My mother provided unwavering support throughout my education and tutoring. Although I learned to read in fifth grade and spent extra time in elementary school catching up, she assisted me with all my homework and study needs. Her encouragement continued as I advanced into honors and advanced classes. According to her own account, my mother faced challenges in graduating from high school, but after many years of guiding and studying with me, she started college when I did and later started graduate school as I entered medical school. Throughout her career, she practiced as a clinical social worker. My family has remained a constant source of support throughout my entire journey, including to this day.

When I entered medical school, I was initially drawn toward surgery, though I had little exposure to obstetrics and gynecology (OBGYN) as a surgical specialty. Growing up in a family of mostly women—sisters, aunts, and cousins—I saw many of my relatives go through their own OBGYN experiences. This exposure, along with seeing women I loved navigate pregnancy and childbirth, planted the seeds of my interest in women’s health.

It wasn’t until medical school that I truly discovered the world of OBGYN and immediately felt a connection. I learned about the disparities faced by women of color, including members of my own family, and that motivated me further. I wanted to change the experiences and outcomes for women like the ones in my life. Being a Puerto Rican woman in this field has allowed me to connect more deeply with patients who see themselves reflected in me, and I take pride in serving as an advocate for women of color and all birthing people.

Ultimately, my goal has always been to improve outcomes—not just for my own family, but for all those who face barriers in maternal healthcare. I know that while our medical knowledge continues to advance, changing the culture around care and equity takes time. I am grateful every day for the opportunity to contribute to that change, especially through my work at Mayo Clinic, where my focus on inpatient obstetrics allows me to be part of a team that’s truly making a difference in maternal outcomes.

Throughout my career, both as an OBGYN and as a woman who has birthed three children, I have witnessed firsthand how breakdowns in communication impact both patients and healthcare professionals. Often, both sides can feel unheard or misunderstood, which can create frustration and erode trust. True communication cannot happen unless there is genuine listening on both sides—it’s a partnership rooted in empathy and mutual respect.

I believe the key to effectively sharing the Hear Her message is to highlight that listening is a shared responsibility and an opportunity for growth, not a mechanism for assigning blame. When we encourage patients to voice their experiences and concerns, we simultaneously need to champion the work that healthcare professionals do to create safe, supportive environments for open dialogue. Building strong relationships—before, during, and after care—can make all the difference, allowing us to approach each encounter with goodwill and understanding.

For healthcare professionals, I teach that every patient encounter is an opportunity to “see the good” in the person before us, even when interactions are challenging. Patients who seem guarded or frustrated may be acting out of fear or past negative experiences, and it’s our job to maintain respect and patience regardless. At the same time, I encourage patients and families to participate in hospital programs like Team Birth and TeamSTEPPS, which equip everyone with practical skills to foster communication and collaborative care.

Ultimately, my hope is that as we work together to elevate patient voices, we also strengthen the bonds between healthcare professionals and patients—building trust, understanding, and better outcomes for all, free from blame and grounded in partnership.

With my background in patient safety and quality in OBGYN, I’ve learned that balancing clinical judgment with actively listening is absolutely essential. I strongly believe in the fundamentals of history-taking as taught in medical school—often, a single piece of information that seems unrelated at first can end up revealing the true nature of a patient’s condition. To achieve this, I focus on truly understanding the patient’s story and asking thoughtful questions to ensure I gather all the necessary clinical details.

I recognize that while a patient holds the key to their own story, they may not have the medical framework to highlight every detail relevant to their care. It’s my responsibility to listen actively, ask clarifying questions, and validate their concerns—even if those concerns don’t ultimately explain their current symptoms or fall within the spectrum of normal findings. I always aim to provide education and clear guidance about when to return for further evaluation if symptoms persist, worsen, or change.

Many OB concerns may seem benign at the time of an encounter, but changes over time can make them significant. That’s why I make it a priority to listen, validate, answer questions, explain care plans, and offer education and return precautions. I believe that these actions are foundational to building a strong, therapeutic relationship with my patients.

In high-pressure or emergency situations—especially in obstetrics, where I may be meeting a patient for the very first time—I know how challenging it can be to ensure that everyone feels truly heard and respected. When time is short and critical decisions must be made, I make a point to establish a moment of connection, no matter how brief. I look the patient in the eye, and if appropriate, I’ll hold their hand and let them know that my team and I are here for them, and that things may start moving quickly. I always acknowledge any fear or anxiety, reassuring them that we will talk through everything more thoroughly once we’re on the other side of the acute situation. Whenever possible, I tell my patients directly, “I hope you feel heard and respected,” weaving this commitment into the conversation as best I can.

I take feedback about communication very seriously, and I continuously seek opportunities to improve my skills through training and reflection. I also encourage all healthcare professionals to pursue ongoing development in communication, as it is essential for building trust, even in the most urgent circumstances. It’s my goal that every patient, even in the midst of crisis, leaves knowing that they were listened to and treated with empathy and respect.

Personally, I’ve found that completing training on both conscious and unconscious bias has meaningfully improved the care I provide to my patients. I believe that incorporating regular bias training into continuing education is vital for everyone in healthcare. There are many excellent resources available, including free courses that can be easily accessed.

In addition, seeking out opportunities to learn from and interact with people from different backgrounds—both personally and professionally—has been incredibly enriching for me. Moving from the East Coast to Minnesota, I initially struggled with regional differences in communication styles. I’ve been able to broaden my understanding of various cultures, especially communications styles, which has deepened my ability to connect with and better understand my patients.

I also make it a point to expand my knowledge of culture and diversity, using tools like the “diversity wheel” to reflect on aspects of my own identity beyond race, ethnicity, and gender—such as socioeconomic status, geographic location, ability or disability, personality, and job title. Understanding these facets of myself helps me recognize potential biases around those topics and seek out more information as needed.

I’ve learned that one of the best ways to connect with people from different cultures is to start by sharing something about myself. By being open about my own culture, biases, or experiences with discrimination, I can help create a deeper, psychologically safe space where others may feel comfortable sharing their own stories. Of course, it’s important to ensure that I feel psychologically safe before initiating these conversations, but in my experience, this openness has paved the way for meaningful and honest exchanges that ultimately benefit patient care.

If I could offer one piece of advice to patients about self-advocacy, it would be to approach every interaction with mutual respect. I encourage you to remember that healthcare professionals, like me, bring our own lived experiences to every encounter. The many patients and outcomes I’ve witnessed—both joyful and heartbreaking—shape how I counsel and communicate. Especially in pregnancy, it’s normal to be concerned about symptoms that may, at times, fall within the range of typical experiences. Please know that it’s not always easy for us to distinguish between what’s routine and what signals something more serious, and we do our best to listen and respond thoughtfully.

It’s also important to recognize that healthcare professionals are people, too. There are days when, behind the scenes, I may be carrying the weight of personal challenges or coping with the aftermath of a difficult delivery. In obstetrics, the contrast between moments of great happiness and profound sadness is part of our daily reality, even though it’s not often discussed openly. Sometimes, the emotional toll can affect how present or compassionate we seem, although that’s never our intention. Being honest, there are times when, despite our efforts, we fall short of delivering the empathy and respect you deserve. This isn’t an excuse, but rather a window into the humanity of those caring for you.

By approaching your care team with understanding and giving us the benefit of the doubt, you help foster a stronger, more trusting relationship. Your respectful advocacy not only empowers you but also encourages us to meet you with the same respect and compassion. This partnership is especially important in labor and delivery, where expectations often lean toward joy but where the reality can be much more complex. Together, when we extend grace and empathy to one another, we lay the foundation for the best possible care.

If there were one key message I could share with other healthcare professionals about listening to patients, it would be this: Approach every interaction with genuine compassion and respect, no matter how challenging the circumstances. As an Obstetrics Hospitalist, I am deeply honored to care for women, birthing people, and their families. Through my own experience, I have learned that when I treat each person with empathy, offer them my undivided attention, and extend the benefit of the doubt, that same respect and understanding is reflected back to me.

One of my guiding principles comes from Frederick Douglass: “Without struggle, there is no progress.” Every day, I choose to engage in the sometimes difficult work of open and honest communication, knowing that it is the foundation of psychological safety for my team and my patients. My goal is to help create an environment where everyone feels safe—safe to speak up, safe to share concerns, and safe to be authentic, whether as a patient or as a healthcare professional. I truly believe that by showing up with empathy and a willingness to listen, we can all make a meaningful difference in healthcare and in each other’s lives.