It’s currently almost 5 in the morning on 12/12/12. I’m sitting in the dark, snuzzling my 8 week old (today!) baby girl and watching the felines dismantle the Christmas tree on ornament at a time. Oh, and trolling OPM. In approximately 1.5 hours, my household will come alive with the usual pre-day chatter from the other two young ladies in my life (ages 5 and 2). We’ll be off to school and daycare, while the baby and I head up to our local regional hospital for a newborn renal ultrasound (did you know 8 week old babies could get UTI’s? I didn’t.)
It’s quiet. I relish the quiet. I think better when its quiet. After a long day that the hospital, the baby and I will be headed to our soft, warm, king sized bed for a nap; before her older sisters come home and this mama starts getting ready for work. And I will return to the hospital in quite a different capacity—instead of a patient, I will be the nurse. The charge nurse, actually. My patients will receive 13 hours of excellent nursing care. I will wipe bottoms, I’ll dispense meds, and I’ll type on a computer chart until my fingers are sore. And eventually, 1 or 2 am will come, my patients will sleep, and once again I will be free to think.
In two short weeks, I’ll move to a strictly weekend schedule to make room for full-time school. The very thought of school frightens me to my core; I barely made it through the first time. And then my husband reminds me that the first time didn’t lead to sometime I’ve wanted since childhood. The first time lead to a means to pay the bills. The first time coincided with another first; our first child and mama can’t not have an income for 10+ years.
But NOW…now the babies are baked and hatched, the finances are stable, and the mama…the mama yearns for something more. The mama yearns for an opportunity to follow her passion, her dream. And in the stillness, in the quiet, as the baby wiggles and coos on the floor under the tree at 5:08 am, the decision is final, the fear is real, and implications are mindboggling. I…offically consider myself a Pre-Med.
AMAZING POST.
I love your writing! Please start a blog about your journey!
Good luck with the newborn and the ultrasound!
Congrats and welcome to the premed journey. You’ve certainly come to the right place.
Great first post. Keep them coming!
Welcome aboard!
WELCOME!!! I’m so proud and excited for you as you start this journey. As a mother of 2 1/2 girls (I’m still baking one =), I can completely relate to some of what you are feeling. It’s scary, exciting, and wonderful…and you WILL come out on the other side. Just don’t stop breathing, and take things one class at a time.
I think moms are really good at feeling guilty when we do things for ourselves…but one of the things I finally had to realize was that making this leap was ultimately going to make me a better wife and mother–because there is a certain kind of peace that comes from jumping into the current of what you are MADE to do…and when work doesn’t feel like work? Everyone in the family benefits.
You are also beginning what will be an amazing legacy for your girls…teaching them that they never have to settle, and that it’s ok to run hard after your dreams. You should feel really proud of that–I know I do.
Welcome to OPM! You are among kindred spirits… so keep us posted, and thanks for making us a part of your adventure!
- MamaNerdling Said:
Well then, today is a good day! Many welcomes!
Welcome to OPM! 
Welcome, I’ve been on the premed journey for 6 years now. Twice as long as I had planned but I’m still trucking. It’s been a roller coaster.