Medical school & motherhood: The stats, the reality & the truth

Choosing when to have a child as an up-and-coming physician is difficult. It’s not like applying to medical school or residency; there are no tests, checklists or set of experiences that determine your readiness.

In my experience, there is rarely a “perfect” time to start a family in medical training. It really depends on your individual circumstances and when you feel ready. I had my baby six weeks into my first year of medical school.

The stats

As medical students, we’re planners. We like knowing the requirements. We often lean on our peers and mentors for guidance. Before any major step forward, we ask: Is anyone else doing this?

According to the American Association of Medical Colleges’ (AAMC) annual survey, approximately 7% of graduating medical students reported having a dependent other than their spouse in 2020. In another survey, 4.2% of premedical and medical students reported having children and wanting more, while 1.6% reported having children and not planning to have more. There is little data on this topic, highlighting a need for more research on family planning during medical training.

Before getting pregnant, I spoke to my peers who were mothers. When is a good time to be pregnant? Will I ever be home? Is it all even worth it? Those felt like the right questions, but I could have asked so many more. Will I be able to study postpartum? How much time can I take after delivery? What if I start to fail?

The reality

Medical school can feel like riding a roller coaster you’re barely tall enough to board, in the middle of a storm, while a half-smiling attendant waves as you scream in terror. Pregnancy and motherhood feel like the same ride, except you’re blindfolded, you’ve strapped your infant in next to you and the attendant didn’t even have you sign the waiver.

While on that ride, I became acutely aware of how frightened women seemed to be about pregnancy. Across social media, medical school and even within my own circles, I saw anxiety, even nightmares. Much of that fear comes from a lack of understanding of how pregnancy affects you and preconceived notions about what motherhood is “supposed” to look like. Those fears are valid.

For me, pregnancy physiologically followed the textbook, but mentally I was unprepared. The emotional swings were both high and low, but more importantly, they came on quickly and were often out of my control. Postpartum amplified that. I had previously thought I would just “bounce back” to my “usual” self after having the baby, but this didn’t happen.

Some hours I was in tears; others, my heart was bursting with love, and sometimes I just felt numb. 

In retrospect, I was so focused on keeping up that I missed what was happening in real time. I was either being a new mom or studying; rarely both, and never fully present in either role. Studying became a reprieve since it turned off the emotions, but that was me facing a computer, not another human. Three weeks postpartum, I had my first standardized patient encounter. I walked in confidently, set my tools down, sanitized my hands and started talking to the patient.

And then I completely forgot what I was there to do.

For 20 minutes, I carried on a conversation, missing the entire purpose of the encounter: to capture a set of vitals. It wasn’t until I stood up to leave that I realized it. During feedback, I cried. Not because I didn’t know how to take vitals, but because, in that moment, I couldn’t keep up with my work as a medical student. It wasn’t sustainable. Something had to change.

In time, I began structuring my outlook into three versions of myself: past, present and future me. Past me created space for future me to enjoy the moments. The cuddles, the giggles, the perfectly diced dinner dumped onto the floor. Present me tries to stay present: let me enjoy this moment because future me will miss it, even while present me still feels pangs of guilt. At the time, I didn’t realize it, but present me was creating space to breathe, to decompress from school in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to before.

Our child won’t want hugs forever. She won’t always laugh when I blow bubbles. I’m learning, slowly, to be more present when I’m with her as well as when I’m studying.

This practice of being present, drawing boundaries and accepting that I cannot do everything perfectly at once is the same skill I will need as a physician. It’s what will allow me to sit with a patient instead of thinking about my next task, to listen instead of rush and to be steady in moments that don’t have clear answers.

The truth

Being a parent in medical school can be isolating because relatively few of us are parents, and our balance of body, mind and spirit is by necessity quite different from most of our peers.

At the same time, our lives as medical students are very different from those of most mothers of young children.

Lean on your family and friends for support. Keep in mind that motherhood can look however you want it to look. And while pregnancy comes with an increase in cardiac output, acid reflux and fiercely gorgeous hair, you actually have more control than you think.

Maybe you’ll have protected time for family instead of email.
Maybe you’ll pump between labs while reviewing a lecture.
Maybe you’ll bring your toddler to school events.
Maybe you’ll practice your lymphatic osteopathic manipulative treatment (OMT) after wiping away boogers for the 100th time.
Maybe you’ll study by teaching your baby the coagulation cascade.
Maybe you’ll develop better time management skills and better test scores.
Maybe you’ll develop healthier habits and re-experience parts of your own childhood through your kids.
Maybe you’ll connect more deeply with your patients.
Maybe you’ll gain a new perspective on what it feels like to be a patient.
Maybe you’ll become a stronger advocate for yourself, for future medical students, for future patients and for your child.

Maybe you’ll realize your bravery was somewhere deep in your pelvic floor all along.

Related reading:

From diapers to degrees: Parenting through medical school and residency

3 things I wish I knew about being a mother in medical training