I interviewed for my first job after college from a hospital bed. I had just given birth.

• I had my first child when I was 22 and weeks after graduating from nursing school.
• My baby was early, and I had postpartum complications, so we stayed in the hospital.
• The nurse manager came to interview me for a job while I was still admitted.

A sharp knock interrupted my afternoon dozing, and I sat up in the hospital bed, expecting to see my mom or maybe one of my sisters walk in. Instead, a woman with bouncy orange-tinted hair wearing an official badge emerged through the doorway.

“Hi, Chaunie!” she announced brightly. “I’m the nurse manager from upstairs. You had an interview scheduled today, and well, since you’re here, I thought I’d pop down and say hello,” she laughed.

I attempted to chuckle alongside her, but at only a few days postpartum and while having complications from giving birth, I have to admit, I felt anything but jovial.

I was feverish from an infection, traumatized from being separated from my baby, who was in the NICU and unable to breastfeed her, and exhausted from not sleeping essentially since I had gone into labor. The last thing I expected was to host a job interview from my hospital bed.

I had forgotten I had a job interview

The truth is, I had completely forgotten my scheduled job interview that day. After becoming pregnant during my senior year of nursing school, I set up an interview at a local hospital as close to my graduation date as possible.

My husband was still in college — he wouldn’t graduate for another year — so our livelihood rested on my very pregnant shoulders, and I took all the steps I could to secure income quickly for us.

However, I ended up giving birth earlier than expected and then wound up being admitted to the same hospital where my interview was scheduled. Everything happened so fast that I had completely forgotten about the job interview. But apparently, the hospital had not.

I honestly can’t tell you how the manager found out I was there or if she had asked me if it was OK to stop in. Everything that happened near my child’s birth and thereafter is a bit of a blur. I don’t remember having any warning that my future manager would pop in that day, but I do remember that I was pretty mortified. I hadn’t showered, I was miserable and in pain, and all I wanted was to be at home with my baby, not chat about work.

I needed the job

But at freshly 22, a brand-new mom, and with no “real” work experience since I had graduated from college only weeks prior, I had no idea of what was “normal” and what was not. I needed the job and the money at that time, so I did my best to be pleasant and cheerful with the nurse manager despite my uncombed hair and hospital gown that was definitely sporting leaking breast milk stains.

Looking back, part of me wonders if the nurse manager that day was just being nice or if it crossed the boundaries of professionalism. I honestly don’t know. I wasn’t necessarily upset about her stopping in, but it did make me feel a little strange and maybe even exposed at a vulnerable time in my life.

I ended up starting work at six weeks postpartum to the day, and my experience as a first-time working mother was brutal. I worked a full-time night shift as a nurse and as a brand-new mom, did not have access to childcare, so I stayed awake during the day and took care of my baby. There were times when I stayed awake for over 72 hours straight, and truth be told, I just thought that was what adulthood and motherhood meant — misery.

There are so many things I accepted and put up with as a new mom and a new nurse that now, looking back, I know were incredibly harmful. I wish that I could have laid down boundaries to prioritize my own health and well-being, but the truth is, I didn’t know that I could. What I did know was that I needed a job, and I needed the money, and I simply expected that life as a working mother would be extremely difficult.

I went on to have four more babies, but my experience as a working mom has always been that first day in the hospital — when even while feeling sick, miserable, and exhausted, it also means grinning, bearing it, and hoping for the best.