Little girl’s dream

If we were to turn back exactly 15 years and 3 months into the past and you were to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would tell you – in my naive mind – that I wanted to be a baby doctor. Of course, at that time I never knew the technical name to that kind of specialization but that job really was my first real ambition (other than being a piano teacher).

I can still vividly remember the moment I decided that that was going to be my destiny. My mom was pregnant with my sister at that time and I would occasionally follow her for her regular checkups. There was one visit where I remembered that it took no longer than 15 or 20 minutes and within that consultation time, it included an ultrasound scan to check on the baby. I stood with my mother at the counter to pay for the doctor fees. I remember hearing the number RM80 and my little brain immediately thought that it was really good money. A simple ultrasound paddle on the tummy and some other questions and voila! RM80 for my little pocket. Super good money. I remember telling my mom that it was super expensive and it looked really easy to do. It was then that I decided I wanted to be a doctor who deliver babies. For the easy money.

That little idea stuck on for a little while. I started dwelling on it and was liking the idea of having a job privileged enough to bring life into the world. In fact, I was so into it, I even made a deal with my primary school classmate (who also wanted to be a doctor) that we will both open a clinic together for pregnant women.

Today, 15 years later… it’s a whole different story. Now I prefer to stay away from any woman in labour as much as possible. Medical school has taught me the knowledge, thus drawing a picture of all the possible complications which could happen in a pregnant woman and the dangers to look out for during delivery and even after. It has opened my eyes and somewhat destroyed the pretty little picture I once had of an easy job of delivering babies. Housemanship pushed me to experience and see first hand all of these problems.. and I guess it’s not just seeing things, but I have now come to a time where I’m expected to be a part of solving those problems – in some way or another.

It was pretty odd that I suddenly remembered about my first real ambition while driving home from work one day. It was even more odd to realize at this point that my once-upon-a-time dream is now one of my nightmares.

O&G and I don’t share a loving chemistry.
Yes. This is the 4th blog post I’ve said so.

Hush, little baby

I hear a wail from a distance. Sounded like an inconsolable cry. Perhaps he’s hungry or needs a cuddle. But I was asleep. Perhaps I’ve been dreaming it since that’s pretty much all I hear all day long. I tried to reposition myself to get comfortable to maximize the hours I have for some shut-eye.

I hear the cry again. It’s getting louder.. demanding for attention. Opening my eyes, I remembered that I’ve been sleeping in the nursery/feeding room – the only place with a comfortable enough couch for a quick nap if the night permits. I stayed where I was, hoping for the staff nurse in charge to come and attend to the little one’s needs. She took awhile. If this were in the Sims 3 game, all I had to do was click on the baby, “Pick up” *click* “Cuddle” *click* “Feed baby” *click* .. and the crying would automatically stop.

But nope, this is no game. The crying went on until the staff nurse came in and picked him up. Still crying. She fed him some milk and gave a little cuddle. He was back asleep not too long after.

O&G has been tough. I’m still not typically enjoying it, but I’m learning to adapt – doing what I need to do to get by. There is so much pressure to ensure that the mother’s delivery goes by smoothly without errors. I’ve seen so many different kinds of mothers. New mothers, or those who have had at least 7 children already, those who lost the baby in their womb, some unmarried, some teenagers.. and most of them pose practically the same question to me every other day – whether or not I was a mother myself.

In the beginning it was quite an awkward question to answer, having to explain why I wasn’t one yet when a lot of them who are pretty much as old as I am were at their first, if not second or third pregnancy. But as the days go by and having to answer that same question over and over again, it became easier – almost second nature, knowing what question comes next.

No, I’m not a mother and I don’t quite see it coming in the near future at all. Sure, sometimes when I hold these little precious ones some of whom I assisted in delivery that the little longing deep inside surfaces for a moment. “It would be nice to have one of my own to play with”. That’s right. Play with. For a moment. Then when it’s more than a moment and then you’re required to feed almost every half an hour, change their diapers, hear them cry deep into the night… it’s a heavy duty job, which I guess it’s not mine to have right now.

Gotta get back to work and face more little babies…