So, I'm trying to get things together for residency applications, because that's coming up quickly. I have to write a personal statement. I despise writing about myself for personal gain. It feels so fake. I sat here staring at the cursor blinking for the better part of the evening before writing this all in one go, without stopping. I can't put it in my applications. But I kind of wish I could. It sums up how I feel. If I can do this, if I can have enough of myself left over to still love what I'm doing, I deserve to get in wherever I want. And those bitches better take me.
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I had a baby during dental school.
People don't do that. Well, women don't do that. I didn't mean to. She just happened. I found out right before part 1 of the national boards, and I cried every day for weeks. I thought I was losing my career. And my career meant everything to me.
I didn't know how I was going to do it. I didn't really think I could.
But I did. I am. I took a break for a year, after encountering some pregnancy complications and reevaluating some priorities. Leaving her and going back to school was the hardest thing I ever did. But I did it and I'm glad I did. I wanted to finish. I want to do this. I still want this more than anything.
More than almost anything.
In order to do this, in order to have a baby and raise her with very little help (due to my husband's long absences due to his job) during a demanding program, I had to reprioritize. Rearrange. Find a balance. Make things work. I couldn't be single-minded about my career anymore. And you know what? I think I'm better off for it. I love my daughter. I think she has made my conviction that I want to work in this field even stronger. If I could leave her at home to go back and finish what I started, and still love every single day of what I'm doing, well. It must be the right choice, right? It must be what I'm meant to do. If I can add this little person who requires so much love and attention to my life and still have enough left over to devote to my career and be happy with it every day, I must have chosen well for myself.
This is what I want to do. I still believe that, more than ever.
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Even on days like today, when I'm totally exhausted and overwhelmed, I'm glad things happened the way they did. Sure, I still think about how the timing could have been better. But my motivation doesn't drag at times like my classmates'. I'm doing this for her. She needs me. And I'm so lucky to still be doing what I love.
She's pretty cute, too. That doesn't hurt.
And guess what? She took her first steps alone last weekend. I cried so many happy tears. I can't believe she's 18 months old. I know it's cliche, but really. Where does the time go?