Today is my last day off. Tomorrow I become a working mom, and I am dreading it. I had no idea how hard it would be, and how much I would want to stay at home. But for the next four years at least, I will get to spend approximately one waking hour a day with my baby, and three weekend days a month if I’m lucky (not three weekends, three weekend days). Why did I think I wanted to be a doctor?
All I can think about now is how to find a job where I get to be home more often. Of course, I picked the field that is notorious for having the absolute worst hours and most demanding schedule. Why didn’t I listen to everyone who told me how hard it would be to juggle all of this?
Parenthood: learning to get by on 3 nonconsecutive hours of sleep. Every night. Forever.