Lights, Camera, Scrubs

For the first nine years of my life, it was just my mother and I living in the same house. But that's not what we wanted, the house became boring, too familiar. I think it started around six years of age where I wanted a brother or sister and my mother wanted another baby herself. Everyday I would ask for a brother or sister, begging my mom to just hurry up. " Mommm! Why can't I have a sibling now? It shouldn't be that hard!" It wasn't until I had just turned nine a couple months ago in October, where my mother had told me our wishes had come true - I was finally getting my little brother or sister in just nine months!

I was excited and couldn't wait until their long awaited arrival that I became very invested into my mother's pregnancy. Since I was the only one at home with her, I decided to step up and take care of her - well as best as a nine year old could at least. As month after month came and went, I found myself fascinated by the wonders that were pregnancy and the upcoming birthing process. Unfortunately, to my mother, I was too curious and also, too aware, more than she was pleased to discuss. You see, I had already known where babies come from for years now thanks to my mother's squeamish personality.

When I was five years old, I asked her the dreadful question, " Mommy, where do babies come from?" Being the first born of my mother, she had NO idea how she should answer that question and she knew I was far too intelligent to tell me the stork story or cabbage patch because I wouldn't believe her. That's how I ended up with an educational book for kids ( the images and correct wording of the genitals makes me believe it was not so kid friendly as my mother presumed ) describing just where babies came from. So, when my curiosity finally evolved with the real life experience I was witnessing, my unrestrained questions came running back full speed. My favorite being, " How will the baby come out? Can I see it?"

To avoid my pestering questions, my mother decided to use a scare tactic that failed miserably : birthing videos. I remember the day like it was yesterday, even though it has been twelve years since. My younger self sat in my room, writing another short story ( a passion I discovered years ago ) about a young girl on the run when she broke my concentration.

" Yes? "

" Come downstairs. I want to show you something." Curious, of course and wanting to make sure she was alright, I followed her down the steps to the old HP computer that sat on one end of our dining room table.

" Show me what?" I asked her, sitting down into a chair next to her.

" Well, you've been asking me about being in the delivery room and how the baby grows every month so I'm going to show you videos of what happens in the room."

Shrugging my shoulders, unbeknownst to me that she hoped watching the videos would change my mind. As the first video showed the typical hospital birth, I watched enthralled as the doctors and nurses moved around, ignoring the soon to be mom screaming bloody murder through the full volume speakers. With my head encased in between my hands, my elbows sitting on the table, my eyes stuck to the emergence of the newborn's head to the cameraman following the cleanup of the infant. As the video went black, I turned to her but said nothing.

" You okay?" I just nodded my head and she clicked another video showing triplets. Again, my eyes never wandered from the screen and I found myself leaning closer to it. The video ended and I was shockingly disappointed - I wanted to see more!

" You're not saying anything so, I am going to show you a home birth video next." No protest came from me and as the very vivid delivery of the woman on her knees pushing her baby out in a kiddie pool adorned our computer screen, I just could not look away. I glanced at my mother out of the corner of my eyes and saw her looking away from the screen, unable to withhold the sight. Ignoring her, I resumed watching completely engrossed into the display that I didn't even notice when the video ended.

" So," My mother started, " Do you still want to be in the delivery room when my water breaks?"

"Yes." I said confidently. Her eyes bugged out. HA sorry mom, your trick to change my mind was unsuccessful. My hand reached out for the computer mouse and went to click on another video.

" How can you watch that?! I can't even watch it without looking away. It looks gross!" My mother all but yelled and I looked at her like she was crazy before responding.

" What are you talking about? That's beautiful." I seen it in her eyes, she thought I was different, odd maybe.

" You're weird." She finally said, before getting up and walking into the kitchen. I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders, clicking on a new video : Cesarean Section and settled in. It was that day that I figured out I wanted to be just like those doctors in the videos, the ones delivering the babies.

Just like all those years ago, when even littler me asked her where babies come from, I was unable to ask my mother anything about puberty or boys because she was just not comfortable with those topics. I had to find my answers elsewhere and the internet became my best friend. I taught myself about hormones and bodily changes while keeping up my weekly Youtube search for birthing videos. My fascination with labor and birth, all the changes we women go through during pregnancy and my mother's refusal to educate me about puberty lead me to an undying love for the world of Obstetrics and Gynecology. But, my first love of writing was still ever present. I had a way with words, my teachers often told me, and I loved who I was and who I could be when I was in writing mode.

So, the difficult decision of whether I should be a writer or an OB/GYN baffled me daily. Which one do I give up? Which one do I love more? Until, I just couldn't decide - they both meant too much to me. One allowed me to be authentic and help myself and others with my written words when my verbal ones couldn't and another was how I learned the many wonders of a woman and how I myself grew into one. I was fourteen when I finally ran to my best friend, shaking her as I announced my fabulous - t0 me - idea.

" Best friend! I got it! I know what I'm going to do now about being an author and OBGYN!"

" Really! What?"

" I'm going to do both! I'll go to school for Obgyn and along the way, I'll publish my books. I could pay for medical school if they're successful too. I love to write but I also want to be an Obgyn. If I can do both successfully, I'll be a .. wait for it.. a FAMOUS DOCTOR!!! I'm a genius!" As I jumped in place, my smile wide and my eyes dancing, my best friend grabbed me, raining on my parade.

" I'm happy for you and that's all great but, I don't think you can call yourself a famous doctor because there's already doctors that are famous for what they do medically."

Rolling my eyes, I explained again, " Yes but they're famous for what they do in the medical world. I'll be famous in the writing world, completely different and I'll be the first famous doctor , HA, get it?! "

" I get it. I'm not sure about the name still but yes, do both! "

" You'll see, I'll be a famous doctor one day, you'll see."

Fast forward to the present, I am now studying Biology Pre-Med at California University, still on track to be an Ob/gyn and still doing what I love ( in between lab practicals and exams), writing books, plays/movie scripts, and short stories and keeping them hidden away. Though the name, " famous doctor" is more of a joke and play on words, I hope that my passion and true connection to writing and being an obstetrician continue to prevail. I hope people love my stories and pending novels and I hope people can see and bear my desire to help others in the best of both worlds. Many think one of my loves will eventually overpower the other but I hope to prove them wrong and make all my teachers from grade school proud that I really did something with my talent for writing and most importantly, make myself happy for going through with both of my dreams because who said that you can only have one dream.