Fighting the Pandemic as a Pregnant Physician

I remember the first whispers of Covid-19. It was almost exactly a year ago when I was 6 months pregnant and taking a flight back from Trinidad and Tobago. A highly contagious virus from China had been discovered in the United States and was coming up on my iPhone feed when I touched down in Miami. I thought nothing of it as I boarded my next flight home.

Not even a month later, patients sick with Covid were rapidly filling our hospital beds. PPE supply was being expedited, healthcare workers were being frantically fit-tested for masks, anxiety and fear was rising. As a physician anesthesiologist, we were considered the most skilled providers with airway management. Therefore, for Covid patients that needed the ventilator, we were often intubating them. Intubation requires putting a breathing tube down the trachea in order to place them on the mechanical ventilator to support their lungs as their own respiratory system was failing. It was the riskiest procedure for viral exposure. In addition to anesthesiology, I am also board-certified in critical care medicine. This meant that the sickest Covid patients came to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) and would be under my care. The threat of exposure in my field was high.

Shortly into the pandemic, I received a call from my boss.

“Hey Felicia, I just wanted to check in on you,” he sounded concerned.

“What’s going on?” I asked on my drive home from work.

“So how are you feeling with everything? I know you’re 7 months or so now. Are you comfortable working in the ICU?” he asked.

“Yes. If I have the PPE I need then I will take care of these patients.”

I hung up. I surprised myself with the prompt answer I gave. There was no pause, zero hesitation. Just a reflex response. After all, I WAS TRAINED FOR THIS. I wasn’t going to let my colleagues or my patients down. I WAS BUILT FOR THIS. At this time, not much was known about Covid-19. Only that it spread dangerously fast and the mortality rate was tragic. Should I think about this more? What kind of risk would I be putting my family and pregnancy at by staying on the frontline? Before I could have a change of heart, I was pulling into my driveway.

The pandemic hit hard. Elective surgeries were cancelled so I was now working full-time in the ICU. The shifts picked up. I worked where they needed me. I gowned up, blasted my PAPR hood and saw patient after patient. I changed my clothes and shoes before leaving the hospital and I showered immediately upon coming home before touching anything in my house or embracing my family. I worked my last shift before going into labor overnight taking care of one of the sickest Covid patients during the pandemic at our hospital. I jogged up and down the stairwell 9 months pregnant with 2 masks strapped to my face managing multiple units because it saved minutes compared to the elevator. These minutes mattered. I intubated and performed life-saving procedures all while having Braxton-Hicks contractions. I didn’t miss a beat. Two days later, I gave birth to a perfect little boy named Maverick.

I came back to work after maternity leave after 3 months only to learn that I was pregnant again. This will be my second pregnancy since the pandemic began. I had already endured one pregnancy during Covid, this should be no different, I thought to myself when I saw the two pink lines. Except this time around, there was a vaccination undergoing clinical trial and I would be prioritized to receive it. By the time the vaccine was disbursed, I had done my share of research. My MFM doctor and OB both strongly encouraged it. I was ready.

On the day of my appointment, I sat down, rolled up my sleeve and thanked the workers. We were making history. This moment felt monumental. After the vaccine, I had to sit in a room to be monitored for adverse reactions for 15 minutes like everyone else. This is when I felt something, something unlike any other emotion I was accustomed to. An overwhelming feeling of relief and profound hope. A sense that some tension has been eased, a weight lifted. I didn’t realize how much worry and stress had been building up, hidden underneath my PPE, distracted by my pregnancies and putting my patients first. The accumulating pressure to continue to do my part as a critical care anesthesiologist and simultaneously, keep my family healthy and safe. My eyes swelled as I took a deep breath and rubbed over my 14 week bump. Fifteen minutes was up. Let’s keep fighting, baby.