There was not much that I expected to look forward to while being pregnant in residency during a worldwide pandemic. I found out I was pregnant in August 2020 which meant that I would spend most of my senior year growing a little human. I felt blessed, don’t get me wrong. But I came to terms with the fact that pregnancy and residency was simply not the norm. 

First came the anxiety of telling my program leadership and having to change my schedule. Then the fear of telling my coresidents and wondering if they worried about how this could impact them. I also agonized over what my attendings would think and how this could affect my training. I stressed about contracting COVID and wondered how to best protect myself and the baby.  Then, of course, there were my concerns about working-while-nauseous/fatigued/swollen/waddling around the department. Overall, I was excited yet petrified. 

A lot of my negative preconceived notions turned out, thankfully, to be unfounded. My program leadership has been extremely supportive and my coresidents are more excited than me at times. Male and female attendings alike have been overly kind and I have become an instant member of a beautiful tribe of pregnant and mothering women in medicine throughout our hospital. My first-trimester nausea plagued me at home, but miraculously disappeared with the adrenaline of walking into shift. I never once had to call out sick and thankfully I have been COVID-free.

There was one perspective throughout all of this that I had not considered…what would my patients think of me? 

At barely 4’11’’, with a babyface, I was accustomed to daily questioning of my qualifications. My initial patient interactions were often met with “how old are you?” “you’re the doctor?or my favorite “did you even graduate high school?” Navigating around these comments became commonplace. Sometimes I would sigh, joke back, or ignore them altogether. 

Once my baby bump appeared, however, these comments dwindled. No one seemed to question my role as their resident physician. And instead, something wonderful took their place. 

More often than not, when I walk into patients’ rooms, they look at me, then at the bump, and instantly smile. “Hello to both of you!” one of my patients recently exclaimed. Several hands have gently reached out to touch the bump, which frequently turns into a game of  “is it a boy or a girl?” Sometimes my patients realize I’m pregnant halfway through the interview and stop to discuss. I’ve learned how many children many of my patients have and what their names and ages are. It gives us a moment to talk about something other than the horrible reason they are in the emergency department that day and allows for an incredibly humanizing moment with my patients. 

The baby-bump effect is further-reaching than I ever could have imagined. An urban emergency department is not a warm, friendly place. It’s understandable that patients are upset at times with prolonged boarding, limited visitor policies during COVID, small cramped spaces, and strained nursing ratios. Yet the same frustrated, angry patients do not seem to scream at me as much. Rambunctious, intoxicated patients have instantly calmed down when I come near, for example.  And those patients or family members who are obstinate about not properly wearing a mask have quickly thrown it on when I’m around. Go figure! 

As their physician, I should be the one expressing concern about my patients well being. But often throughout my pregnancy there has been a remarkable role reversal. My patients many times have stopped to ask me how I am doing being pregnant, working on my feet all day in PPE, with COVID potentially all around me. In the same way, they humanize me. I am not just a doctor anymore, but a woman with a personal life, with a family, and I believe they see the sacrifice my colleagues and I make everyday to be there for them. I reassure them that “we’re” vaccinated and use it to open up the conversation regarding how best to protect themselves from infection. 

Pregnancy during residency has far exceeded the limited expectations I initially had. So while I soak up the last few weeks with my baby bump, I will also cherish these heartwarming moments with my patients and hope they will continue to serve as a reminder of the humanity that can, and should, exist in medicine.