You Are Pregnant
Written by a Chicago Medical Student, 27I never walk into an exam room and say ‘congratulations’. You can never assume a pregnancy is planned nor desired, I am taught.
I sit down and I try to truly see the woman sitting across from me.
She is 42 and finally pregnant after battling a decade of infertility issues.
She is 17 and terrified that her parents will find out.
She is 30 and excited to finally have a little girl.
She does not know who the father is.
She was raped.
No matter who she is, I help fulfill her wishes. I have performed ultrasounds on healthy babies, I have informed mothers that their child has a life altering genetic condition, and I have terminated pregnancies. It is not my job to judge, it is my job to care.
I follow these women through their pregnancies. It is far from glamorous. She is so nauseous she cannot look at food without throwing up. Baby is pressing against her lungs and she can barely breathe. She is so hormonal she bursts into tears. She cannot find a comfortable sleeping position no matter how hard she tries. She must regulate every piece of food, drink, and substance she puts into her body.
And then comes the grand finale: time to meet baby. I greet her in the hospital. Sometimes the father is there, sometimes he is not.
I lift her legs and coach her to push. She is sweating, she is screaming, she is crying. This can go on for hours. We sometimes have women admitted for days.
Finally, baby is out. We hold the baby up for a flash of a second to show mom, then whisk the baby away for testing, stimulation, routine neonatal care. And there's mom. Laying on the bed, ripped from vagina to anus, blood spilling everywhere. The attending physician and I examine her and see how many stitches we will need to fix her tears.
Dad then leaves mom's side to go be with baby.
Dad gets to be with baby.
Mom just lays there: legs spread, exhausted, exposed. She will never be the same.
Now do I say ‘congratulations’?