This is going to be one long rambling post. I know I've been mia (sorry KC). After finishing first year I just didn't have anything to write about. All I wanted was time to myself and with my family. Then second year came and went. I was able to stop pumping at lunch and ate lunch like a normal person (read: in the library, eating over my laptop, looking at slides). During winter break this year, we went on our usual family vacation to visit my in-laws and I spent two weeks loving life. I felt rejuvenated and was ready to attack the second half of 2nd year plus everyone's favorite, Step 1. Yes, I can do this, I am awesome and wonderful and multitasker extraordinaire. Want to see my color-coded Excel spreadsheet with my study schedule?
A few days into January, I felt funny. Funny, not like haha funny but rather oh shit I might be pregnant funny. I only had an expired cheapo Amazon pregnancy test. I don't think the second line could have appeared any sooner. It's just faulty, it's expired anyway (note: clearly scientific brain was not working at this moment.) My poor husband ran to CVS at 10pm at night and got me two real pregnancy tests and the first one I took turned positive just as quickly as the expired one. And then, I cried. We both didn't know what to say the rest of the night. We have two kids, we're living in student housing in a 3 bedroom apartment. I'm a medical student, staring down Step 1 and going onto the wards. He works full time and is doing a part time MBA. How would this even work? And for the next few days we honestly didn't know if we were going to go through with it and I found myself dumbfounded that I would be in this position, thinking about termination. Me, pro-choice advocate, having to decide for myself what my choice would be. I'll save you the drama and the back and forth, but long story short, we decided not to go down that route and we warmed up to the idea of having 3 (and by warming up, I mean we've accepted it and we're now excited but have no idea how we are going to deal with it come September). But can I just say how amazingly privileged am I to have been able to make a choice for myself, about my body? And equally important, privileged enough to have the resources to actually support another child. End political rant.
My first trimester was a blur of keeping up with school and keeping down my food. I had a meeting with my Dean and asked about what would happen to my third year "if one was to get pregnant." Luckily I was able to get a relatively decent rotation schedule and I start medicine during my late second trimester and finish with family and ambulatory before I go on leave. I just have to take my family shelf 2 days before my due date; I've already told my ob not to touch me during the month of September. I finished my last block of second year, which signified the end of my preclinical years. Somewhere along in there I had an NT ultrasound and my lovely doctor indulged me in a potty shot that revealed a penis, which after two girls, was amazing and surprising. I started studying for Step just as my second trimester began and the fog of nausea and fatigue magically lifted as if it was meant to be (but really, thank you placenta).
Alas, after weeks of studying, not seeing my family ever and having to rely heavily on the support of my husband, my mom and my nanny, I sat for the exam with baby belly, braxton hicks and stretchy pants with no pockets (so they don't make you turn them out during security checks!). I definitely felt a few kicks during the exam, cramped up a few times, but surprisingly 7 hours of testing with a fetus sitting on my bladder went by pretty quickly. And now, I have a few days off before 2 weeks of bullshit pre-wards orientation that are mandatory and then we're off to the wards.
I received an email today from the school letting me know I can't go to one of my doctor's appointments during said bullshit pre-wards orientation, that it's against policy. Because, you know, from 7:30am-5:30pm they're going to keep us prisoners with no breaks, no time for lunch or for me to slip out and see my doctor across the street. That I can do my glucose screen and prenatal check at another time (read: while I'm on call. On internal medicine. At the county hospital. An hour away from campus.) because that makes so much more sense. What bothers me most is this. I don't expect any sort of special treatment. Never in my 2 years at this school have I lamented about being a parent in medicine. I've never asked about more time for studying, I've never been absent. I haven't even taken a sick day. I've passed every single one of my exams and I've always made adjustments on my end to make things work on their terms. My school has ironically created a program called Parents in Medicine. Whoever goes to these events I'm not sure. I don't really know what the program actually is because if you're truly a parent in medicine, you don't have time to go to these things. While I appreciate that they're thinking of us, they're really not thinking of us the right way. We don't need to have events to talk to other parents in medicine and commiserate together about the system. Sure, having a fun family day is nice, but I can do that on my own. What we need is academic support and administrative support. I need to be able to go to a damn doctor's appointment, not have a 2 hour get-together in a park that I can't even attend because I'm studying. I need someone to answer my email that I sent out months before the start of said orientation about scheduling a doctor's appointment. End pregnant-lady hormone-driven rant.
Drama aside, I am excited to get on the wards and finally be closer to "practicing" medicine, but I'm also slightly terrified. I'm afraid of looking dumb, looking too pregnant, looking dumb and pregnant. Being away from my family and missing important events. Oooh and giving birth on the wards or during my shelf exam because I insist on finishing. Ironically the first rotation I'm on when I'm back from maternity leave is ob-gyn, so essentially I'll deliver baby boy huffing, puffing and screaming and then join the team a few weeks later - hey guys, remember me and my vagina? I'm already done with my birth plan. It reads like this: "No medical students please." Sorry guys, but let's be honest, it will be hard to pretend I don't know you.
Hopefully I'll have some time to write about being pregnant on rotation. I'm sure I will have some lovely stories to share.