“HCG: 9,567,” I read in awe. It was an exciting, yet inopportune time. I had already come to terms with not having children. Yet here I was, in my second year of medical school, pregnant. Well, I thought, I would take my step exam and start my third year in the fall. It wouldn’t be a big deal.
During my college years, I recalled studying the trolley problem in moral ethics class. It’s a scenario most people find familiar—deciding whether to sacrifice one person to save many on a runaway train. I never imagined I’d face my own version of this dilemma.
The pregnancy was a marvel of science—starting with a blastocyst, then a fetus developing a rudimentary GI system. I used my pregnancy as an opportunity to apply embryological knowledge. I marveled at each stage, like the midgut penetrating the umbilical ring at week 10, forming the basis of my understanding. I approached it purely as a scientific exercise, disconnected from any emotional attachment.
Fast forward to week 19, and my doctor informed me the baby could arrive at any moment. What should have been a routine visit turned into an ethical quandary. I knew from coursework that 24 weeks marked the earliest viable delivery point. At that moment, I realized I was already attached to this life growing inside me—I was becoming a mother. The stress was overwhelming. I was facing a defining test in my career while dealing with one of the most terrifying moments of my life.
Amid the chaos of medical school and upcoming exams, I confronted a profound ethical dilemma—one that transcended classroom debates. As my pregnancy progressed, my doctor’s words at the 19-week checkup resonated: the baby could arrive prematurely.
This news forced me to reassess my priorities. Suddenly, my career aspirations intertwined with a fundamental question: what does it mean to act for another’s well-being? As I grappled with this decision, I realized beneficence was not just about patient care—it extended to my role as a mother-to-be.
I never anticipated having to choose between my child’s life and my career. I assumed it would be an easy choice—it wasn’t! For weeks, I pushed through, believing that true grit meant continuing to study relentlessly.
Ultimately, I prioritized my health and my child’s life. It was the best decision. However, it came with unforeseen challenges that tested me deeply. This experience has strengthened me in ways I couldn’t have predicted. My daughter is a joy, a reminder of life’s richness beyond medical studies.
She gives my life renewed purpose. I manage my time more efficiently, appreciating life’s small joys. This journey has fostered empathy for my future patients. I am not just a better student; I know I will be a more compassionate doctor.
By prioritizing our health, I discovered a deeper connection to the ethical fabric of healing. This choice epitomized beneficence—the deliberate pursuit of good, not only for myself but also for the life growing within me.
Navigating pregnancy alongside medical education, my daughter embodies beneficence—a reminder that our choices impact those we serve. This journey taught me that true empathy stems from understanding the profound impact of our decisions on others.
Rachel Morris