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, co- residents 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 Pregnant Resident narrated by Finley
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