Melanie Molina, M.D. ’25
In this first-person piece, recent grad Melanie Molina, M.D. ’25, recalls a poignant story from her OB-GYN rotation, caring for a patient delivering a stillborn baby, turning a typical day into a memorable, melancholy experience. Molina’s narrative first appeared in In-Training; it has been edited and abridged for FIU Medicine.
When you begin clinical rotations in medical school, people encourage you to be as involved as possible in-patient care. They tell you to take initiative, to challenge yourself. They also tell you that there will be times when it is most appropriate to stand back and observe. It is in some of these moments that the most valuable lessons are learned.
You are in your second rotation—obstetrics and gynecology. You walk into the residents’ room as you do every morning before meeting with the attendings. The nurse calls about a patient who came in overnight with bleeding, indicating intrauterine fetal demise. You enter the room with the attending and resident, feeling the palpable sadness as a young woman your age faces her worst day.
You observe the tiny, perfect baby being delivered breech, counting its fingers and toes. The attending explains she isn’t dilated enough. You notice her teary-eyed partner holding her hand and wonder about her second-trimester plans.
The resident checks on you, mouthing, “You okay?” and later asks about phrasing explanations in Spanish for the patient.
After administering medication, the team steps out, leaving a white wreath on the door. Back inside, silence prevails as the resident explains a placental abruption, reassuring the patient it wasn’t her fault. You both cry, retreating to the residents’ room. Months later, seeing the resident and intern again stirs memories of that unnoticed, impactful day.