I never thought I would find myself pregnant in the middle of my residency. I had spent too many years sacrificing sleep, my social life, and even my own well-being to make it this far. Medicine was my dream, my passion, and my purpose. But suddenly, my world was flipped upside down by two pink lines on a test that I took on my lunchbreak.
At first, I was in shock. How would I continue my grueling schedule with morning sickness? How would I manage 28-hour shifts while growing another life inside me? And the biggest question of all, how would I do this alone? The father of my child, a man I had once trusted, made it clear he wanted no part of this. He suggested that I
“take care of it” and move on.
I won’t lie. I felt absolutely broken. The weight of uncertainty was crushing, and there were moments I wondered if I could do this at all. But deep down, I knew I had no choice. I had fought too hard, worked too many hours, and poured too much of myself into medicine to let this be my breaking point.
So, I did what I always do. I pushed forward. I continued my residency, waking up before the sun rose and coming home in the dark. I fought through the nausea, exhaustion, and swollen feet. I took judgmental stares from some colleagues who whispered behind my back, questioning my ability to be both a doctor and a mother. But I also found unexpected allies: attending physicians who encouraged me, coresidents who covered for me when I needed a break, and nurses who slipped me food when they noticed my energy dropping.
There were days I cried in the supply closet from sheer exhaustion, but there were also days when I felt I could take on the world. I was growing a life while saving lives. Every kick I felt reminded me that I was doing this not just for myself, but for my child. I wanted my baby to grow up knowing their mother was strong, capable, and unbreakable.
The moment I held my baby for the first time, I knew every sleepless night, every moment of doubt, every hurdle was worth it. Becoming a mother didn’t weaken me. It made me stronger. It reshaped my perspective on medicine, on compassion, on resilience.
Residency is designed to break you, to push you to your limits. But I learned that my limits stretched far beyond what I ever imagined. I didn’t just survive residency while pregnant. I thrived.
To any woman facing the same journey, know this: you are stronger than you think. Your dreams don’t have to end when life throws you an unexpected challenge. If anything, your dreams can become even more meaningful. And when you look into your child’s eyes, you’ll know, without a doubt, that you are unstoppable.
There are many variations of passages of Lorem Ipsum available, but the majority have suffered alteration in some form, by injected humour, or randomised words which don’t look even slightly believable.