What I wish I knew as a Med School Spouse

In today’s episode, I am sitting down to talk about all the things I wish I knew as a med school spouse before living it. We won't be talking about the surface-level stuff, but the real, lived-in moments that shaped me.

So whether you’re newly dating someone in med school, engaged, married, or deep in the thick of it… this one’s for you.

I’m so glad you’re here 🫶🏻

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Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Hi guys, welcome back to The Life of a Doctor's Wife. Today's episode is a little bit of a big sister chat. Because we're talking about all the things I wish I knew before becoming a spouse in medical school. Because if you're in it right now or about to be, you probably have this picture in your head of what it's going to look like. At least I did. You think you understand the long hours, the stress, the sacrifices. But it is so much more than that. This episode is all about the things I wish I knew as a spouse in med school. Not just the surface level stuff, but the real lived-in moments that shape you. Because before this life, I thought I understood what supporting someone in med school meant. I thought it meant being there, being encouraging, and being patient. And while that's true, it also is so much more than that. So whether you're newly dating someone in med school, engaged, married, or deep in the thick of it, this one's for you. Let's get into it. The first thing is you're not just supporting, you're also sacrificing together. I personally didn't realize how much of my life would shift. Your schedule starts revolving around theirs in ways you don't fully understand until you're actually in it. Holidays aren't just holidays anymore. They're are you on call? Or do you have an exam on Monday? Dinners get moved, weekends aren't guaranteed, and even big life decisions from weddings, traveling, family time. It all starts getting filtered through rotations, board exams, and whatever block they're on. You stop asking, what do we want to do? And start asking, what's even possible right now? And slowly, without even noticing at first, your life starts to adapt around theirs. And there were moments where everything felt really heavy. Like during the first year of medical school when my dad had a heart attack. My whole world paused. I had just moved to Virginia and been living with Dave for about four weeks. I remember being up all night with a splitting migraine and finally falling asleep around 3 a.m. I ended up not waking up until about 10 a.m. that morning. And I woke up to a text from my mom that just said, call me. And I had messages from my sisters asking if I had talked to her yet. And in that moment, my stomach just dropped. I knew something was wrong. By the time I got my mom on the phone, I could hear it in her voice. And my mom has since been retired, but at the time she was an APRN in neurotrauma. So honestly, it takes a lot to shake her. When she told me my dad was heading into the cath lab and his troponins were doubling, I just sank. But we still didn't have the answers yet, so I tried to stay hopeful. I remember canceling a job interview that morning. Everything else just felt so small. My mom told me to wait for the cath results and that she'd call me back. About an hour later after that, I got a call I will never forget. She said they can't stent him, and dad is heading in for open heart. Everything in my world stopped. I remember just sitting there feeling completely empty, and I was alone. Dave was at class and at that moment I would have given anything to have him home with me. I didn't want to be alone. I just needed someone. And I think that was the moment it really hit me. There are going to be really hard things you walk through in this life without them there. I had just been faced with one of the scariest moments of my life, and the thought of not being able to say, I love you or thank you to my dad again. He ended up needing emergency open heart surgery, and this was just nine months before my wedding day. It was one of the hardest seasons of my life. And at the same time, life didn't pause for med school. And I want to say this carefully because it's not a one-sided thing. As hard as it is for us as spouses, it's just as hard for them too. Dave was carrying this in his own way while still trying to show up for school. But that's the reality. You're both navigating something heavy just in different places. So I made the really hard decision to move back home for two months to help take care of my dad. And I do want to mention that I'm so thankful that Dave encouraged me to go. I don't regret being there for my dad for one second, but it was one of the first times I truly felt the weight of trying to balance my family and our life in medicine. Because you eventually will realize you're not just supporting your partner's dream. You're constantly adjusting your own life around it too, while still trying to stay afloat. And with that said, comes a kind of loneliness that people don't really prepare you for. There are nights you're alone, events you go to alone, big moments that don't always look the way you imagine they would. And at first it can feel really heavy, because this probably isn't what you pictured when you thought about your relationship. You imagine doing life side by side, having your person there for the dinners, the random weeknights, the small wins, and the hard days. You picture a rhythm that feels shared, and then suddenly your reality looks a little different. You're sitting at dinner by yourself, you're going to an event solo, you're coming home to a quiet house after a long day, and you think, why does this feel so hard? And the hardest part, you can be in a relationship and still feel alone sometimes. Not because the love isn't there, because it is. Not because they don't care, because they do more than anything, but because their time, their energy, their mental space, it's stretched so thin. They're pouring so much into school, into becoming who they're working so hard to be, that sometimes there just isn't much left at the end of the day. And that can leave you feeling like you're on the outside of their world a little bit. But here's what I wish someone had sat me down and told me. That feeling lonely in this season does not mean your relationship is failing. It doesn't mean you chose the wrong person, and it doesn't mean you're not loved. It just means you're in a season that looks different than most and requires more independence than you ever expected. And over time, something really beautiful starts to happen. You begin to build a life that still feels full even when they're not physically there. You start creating your own routines, little things that bring you comfort and stability. You invest in friendships that fill your cup. You learn what you actually enjoy, what brings you peace, and what helps you reset. You stop waiting for life to start when they're free, and you start living it alongside them. And those nights that used to feel so quiet, they don't feel as empty anymore. They start to feel peaceful. You put on your favorite show, make yourself something you love, maybe call a friend, maybe just sit in the quiet. And instead of feeling lonely, it starts to feel like yours. Like space you've learned how to fill in a way that feels good. And here's the unexpected part. It actually makes your relationship stronger. Because when you do get that time together, it's not rushed or taken for granted. It's intentional, it's appreciated, and it means something. You're not just filling time, you're really with each other. So, yes, there will be moments where it feels lonely, moments where you wish they were there, moments when it feels unfair, moments where it just feels a little heavier than you expected. But there will also be moments where you realize you've built a life that you're proud of. You've become someone strong, independent, and grounded, and you've learned how to stand on your own while still loving someone so deeply. And one day you'll look back on the season and realize you weren't just getting through the loneliness, you were growing through it. And you came out stronger on the other side, more secure and more whole than you ever imagined. While learning how to do life on your own very quickly, handling responsibilities, making decisions, and carrying the day-to-day without always having your partner there to lean on. And honestly, you will become more self-sufficient than you ever expected. I saw this again in third year. My grandma was diagnosed with colon cancer in early October, right around when Mia, our daughter, was born. That overlap of life and loss is something I'll never forget. I was going back and forth to Connecticut after having Mia trying to be present as a new mom, but also trying to show up for my family to say goodbye. If you had asked me the first year of medical school, I would have told you I would have never flown alone, and I was absolutely terrified. But the issues with both my dad and my grandma force me to face those fears, travel alone, travel solo with a newborn, and flying on especially small planes. But in those moments, you don't really have the option to fall apart. You just figure it out. I want to take a quick break to share something I know so many of you will appreciate, especially if you're in healthcare or even married to someone in healthcare. Let's talk about fabletic scrubs. If you've ever worn scrubs that feel stiff, unflattering, or just plain uncomfortable for a 12 plus hour day, you know it makes everything harder than it needs to be. Fabletic scrubs are the opposite of that. They're designed to actually move with you, soft, stretchy, breathable, and still put together enough that you feel confident walking from patients' rooms to charting to grabbing coffee in between. And the best part, they don't look like every other pair of scrubs out there. They feel a little more elevated, a little more you, which honestly matters when you're living in them most of the week. So if you're ready to upgrade your scrub drawer, check out Fabletic Scrubs. Comfortable, functional, and actually cute. Yes, all three at once. I will have a link in my show notes. Alright, let's get back to the episode. There's a version of life in medical school that no one really prepares you for, and that's what I like to call solo momming it. And I don't mean doing life alone, I don't mean not having a partner who loves you, supports you, and is all in. What I mean is learning how to carry the weight of your day-to-day life independently, quickly, and without much warning. Because med school doesn't slow down for anyone. When your partner is in med school, their schedule isn't just busy. It's unpredictable, exhausting, and all-consuming. There are early mornings, late nights, overnight shifts, exams that take over entire weeks, and rotations that demand everything they have. And somewhere in the middle of all that, life still needs to happen. The groceries still need to be bought, the laundry still piles up, the meals still need to be made, the appointments, the errands, the bills, the emotional labor of just keeping everything afloat. It doesn't just pause because they're studying for board exams or working a 14-hour shift. And if you're pregnant or a new mom or juggling your own career responsibilities on top of that, it can feel like you were thrown into the deep end overnight. There were moments where I realized, wow, I'm doing a lot of this on my own. Not because I had to forever, not because my husband wouldn't show up, because he always does when he can, but because in this season, I had to learn how to stand on my own two feet in a way I never had before. And that realization can really be heavy at first. There's a loneliness that can creep in when you're doing things solo that you imagine doing together. Doctors' appointments, late night worries, big decisions, even just those quiet moments at the end of the day when you wish someone was fully present. But they're studying or sleeping after a long shift, or honestly just mentally drained. But here's the shift that changed everything for me. Solo doesn't mean unsupported. Independent doesn't mean unloved. It means you are growing because somewhere in the middle of all of that, stretching, something really powerful happens. You become incredibly capable. You will learn how to problem solve on the fly. You will learn how to trust your instincts. You learn how to manage a home, your emotions, your responsibilities, and honestly, sometimes all of that at once. You stop second-guessing yourself as much because you don't have that luxury of waiting around for someone else to make the call. You just honestly figure it out. And over time, that independence starts to feel less like survival and more like strength. I think this narrative that independence is a relationship is a bad thing. Like it means you're disconnected or doing something wrong. But in seasons like medical school, independence is actually what allows your relationship to survive and thrive. Because instead of constantly feeling let down by what your partner can't give in the moment, you learn how to meet yourself where you are. And when they do show up, and they will, it will feel that much more meaningful. It feels like a choice, not a dependency. But I also want to be really honest. This doesn't mean you have to do everything perfectly. There are going to be days where it feels like too much, days where you're exhausted, overwhelmed, or just wish things were easier. Days where you don't want to be strong, you just want to help. And on those days, it's okay to say that. It's okay to ask for support from friends, family, or even your community. It's okay to admit that this season is hard. Because strength isn't about doing everything alone. It's about knowing you can, but also knowing you don't always have to. To grow stronger and to grow into a version of yourself that you didn't even know you were capable of being. It's not always pretty, it's not always easy, but it will shape you in ways that last far beyond the season. And one day you'll look back and realize you didn't just get through it, you became someone stronger because of it. Another thing I wish I knew how easy it is to compare your relationship to everyone else's outside of medicine. Because you will see it everywhere. Couples traveling on random weekends, date nights that look effortless, spontaneous trips, slow mornings together, flexibility that just honestly feels easy. And if you're not careful, you will start to internalize that as the standard. You start asking yourself questions like, why doesn't our life look like that? Why can't we just pick up and go somewhere? Why does everything feel so scheduled, so rigid, so honestly hard sometimes? And the truth is those questions don't come from a bad place. They come from being human, from wanting connection, ease, and shared experiences. But comparison comparison will quietly start stealing the joy out of what you do have. Because medical school and the life that comes with it isn't built the same way as most people's lives. It's not as flexible, it's not always glamorous, it doesn't always allow for spontaneous trips or consistent date nights or even being fully present all the time. And social media, it amplifies that contrast. You're seeing highlight reels of people in completely different seasons with completely different schedules, different priorities, and different demands. And you're holding your life up next to it, like it's supposed to match. But it was never meant to. You're building something different. You're building a life that requires sacrifice now for something bigger later. You're supporting a dream that asks a lot from both of you. You're learning patience, resilience, and what it really means to love someone through a demanding season, not just the easy ones. And that kind of love, it doesn't always photograph well. It doesn't always look exciting from the outside. But honestly, it's deep, it's steady, and it's real. The danger in comparison is that it shifts your focus from gratitude to lack. Instead of noticing the small, meaningful moments like a quick coffee together between shifts or a tired how is your day at the end of the night, you start focusing on everything you don't have. And when that happens, even the good moments start to feel like they're not enough. But they are. They just look different. And I had to learn this the hard way. If you don't intentionally protect your perspective, comparison will take over without even realizing it. So what helped me? Reminding myself that this season is temporary, but what we're building is long term. Reminding myself that behind every perfect relationship online, there are challenges that I don't see, and you don't either. And most importantly, choosing to appreciate our version of life for what it is and not what it isn't. Because joy doesn't come from having the easier relationship. It comes from being present on your own, from finding meaning in the small things, from recognizing the strength it takes to walk through a season like this together, from realizing that just because your life doesn't look like everyone else's doesn't mean it's lacking. It just means it's yours. And when you stop comparing and start embracing that, that's when the joy will come back. And in the middle of all of this, communication becomes everything. But if I'm being honest, it's not the kind of communication you think it's going to be. It's not always the long, deep conversations over dinner. It's not always perfectly timed heart to hearts where you both feel fully present and understood. Sometimes it's the quick check-ins between shifts. It's five-minute conversations while they're honestly half asleep. It's choosing your words carefully because you know their mental capacity is already maxed out. And that's where it gets hard because you still have needs, you still have emotions, and you still have moments where you feel overwhelmed, unseen, or just tired of carrying so much on your own. But your partner, they're also exhausted, stressed, pulled in a hundred different directions. So you're both trying to show up with limited capacity and still trying to meet each other in the middle. And that's why communication in this season isn't just important, it's intentional. You have to learn timing. There were moments I wanted to bring something up right when I was feeling it because that's natural, right? You feel it, you say it. But I had to learn that timing can change everything. There's a difference between bringing something up when your partner just walked in the door after a 12-hour shift versus waiting until there's a calm, connected moment when they can actually hear you. And that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid in the moment. It just means you're setting the conversation up to actually go somewhere productive. You also have to learn how to say what you need. Because it's really easy for frustration to come out as blame. It's easy to say, you're never here. I'm doing this alone. If that's what it feels like. But those words, they can immediately put the other person on the defense. So instead, I had to learn how to say, I've been feeling overwhelmed lately. I could really use more support in this area. I miss you. And honestly, there's times where I screw up with this too. The same feelings can have completely different outcomes. And it will change everything. But here's the part that I think is the hardest. You have to learn how to give yourself grace. While still advocating for yourself, because yes, your partner is in an incredibly demanding season. Honestly, they're doing the best that they absolutely can, but that doesn't mean your needs need to disappear. And finding that balance between understanding them and still speaking up for yourself is something no one really teaches you. You figure it out in real time. There were moments where I stayed quiet too long, telling myself, they're just busy, it's fine. I stayed quiet too long, telling myself, he's just busy, it's fine, until it wasn't fine anymore. And there were other moments where I brought things up the wrong way at the wrong time, and it turned into unnecessary conflict. And slowly over time you start to learn the rhythm. You learn when to lean in, when to pause and take a break, when to speak up and how to say it in a way that invites connection instead of conflict. When to extend grace and when to gently say, Hey, I need you. Because the goal isn't perfect communication, it's consistent effort. It's choosing over and over again to understand each other even when you're both tired. It's making space for honesty without making the other person feel like they're failing. It's remembering that you're on the same team even when it doesn't feel like that in the moment. And over time, that kind of communication builds something really strong. Not because it's easy, but because you fought for it to work in a season where it would have been easy to disconnect. And that's what makes it last. And I think this is the one thing I've had to come back to over and over and over again, especially in the hard moments. This is a season. This is not forever. Because there are going to be days where it feels overwhelming, where you feel stretched thin, where you're carrying more than you expected, where everything just feels heavy all at once. And in those moments, it's really easy to spiral into is this what life is always going to feel like? But it's not. And having that perspective changes everything. It doesn't take the hard away, but it helps you hold it differently. It helps you zoom out and remember that there's a bigger picture here and that there's a reason you're both making these sacrifices. That there's a future you're building toward together. For me, that means really learning how to trust the long-term vision, even when the day-to-day feels hard. Trusting the missed dinners, the long nights, the moments that feel lonely, they're not meaningless. They're part of something bigger. They're part of building a life that we both believe in. And I think holding on to your why is what grounds you in all of this. Why did you choose this life together? Why does this matter to you? What kind of future are you working toward? Because when things feel heavy, it is so easy to lose sight of that. But when you come back to it, even for a second, it brings you back to center. And one day you're going to look back on this season and realize just how much it shaped you. How much stronger you've become, how much your relationship has grown, how much you were capable of carrying even when you didn't think you could. So if you're in the middle of this right now, just know it's okay if it feels hard. It's okay if you don't have it all figured out. Just have faith in the dots, but this is not forever. And you are going to come out on the other side of this stronger than you ever imagined. That's a wrap for this week's episode. I hope this felt like a conversation you didn't know you needed, because these are the kinds of things I truly wish someone had shared with me early on. If you're in this season right now, just know you're not alone in it. Even on the days it feels really isolating. If this episode resonated with you, it would mean so much if you shared it with another med school spouse or someone who might need to hear this. And as always, I'd love to hear from you, your experiences or stories, or even things you wish you knew. So feel free to reach out or message me. You can find me on social media at Life of a DR Wife. Thank you so much for being here and for spending this time with me. I don't take that lightly. Until next time, take a breath, pour yourself a nice coffee, and be kind to yourself. I'll see you in the next one.