So in a day or two, peanut will be 10 weeks old!
And all, still, is smooth. A little nausea, aversion to pasta, incredible exhaustion. But overall, small fry.
What's not though is what on earth I'm going to do with my life. I want to do paediatric surgery. And I'm just racking (wracking? I think the 'W' adds weight to my angst) my brain to figure out how it's going to work.
4/ utility! The opportunity to change lives
5/ burns surgery - my passion
6/ great communication aspect
7/ nothing else even comes close
1/ rough training program - moving city every year
2/ hard/ impossible to do flexible training
3/ Lover wants to do it too
4/ we'd need to train in different places
5/ I'm already 35 this year
6/ and we have a baby on the way
... just for a start!
This had been just driving! me! crazy! for the past few weeks. I just can't figure out how this is going to work. And it's not a baby-specific problem - we both want this, it's the right time, and the issues with my career plans would exist without our blossoming peanut.
I know I can do this job. What I don't know is how two people in a happy relationship can make two careers in paediatric surgery work. Of course two surgeons could work - but two mid-30s surgeons starting a family, and training in a very small and competitive field?
And then - this is the crux of it - why is it ME who needs to consider other options? Why do I need to sacrifice my aspirations? Because there is no question that Lover will feel the need to have these conversations with himself.
Why after 50 years of modern feminism do I still feel the need to choose between career and family??