This First Person article is the experience of Maggie Campbell, a wife and mom in P.E.I. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
I could hear her heart beat thanks to an at-home fetal doppler. Our three sons gathered around us on the couch and watched as Dad put the jelly on my belly. The sound of their little sister’s heart beat made them laugh.
I should have been feeling joy in this precious moment, and I did, but that joy was overshadowed by worry.
When we found out we were expecting our fourth baby, we were not immediately ecstatic. Instead, our thoughts were: “We don’t even have a doctor. Where do we go?”
I called the office of the obstetrics doctor who cared for me during my previous pregnancy in 2022, hoping I could return to him. In P.E.I., patients generally see their family doctor for the majority of their pregnancy as long as they’re low risk, and aren’t transferred to the care of an obstetrics doctor until around 34 weeks. But the doctor’s office explained I would have to call the provincial patient registry — the waiting list for people who don’t have a family doctor — and they would direct me.
I’ve given birth in Newfoundland, Nova Scotia and P.E.I., travelling to stay near my mother and brother before returning permanently to P.E.I. to be with my husband’s family. Normally, I would see my family doctor to confirm the pregnancy and the process would begin. But since my family doctor in P.E.I. had retired and I don’t have a new one, I instead spent days just trying to sort out who I was supposed to call and where I had to go.
Like much of Canada, P.E.I. has a shortage of family doctors. It’s even statistically official: Access to health care is worse in P.E.I. than in any other province.
Prince Edward Island is the only province to not offer a Practice Ready Assessment program, which would speed up the process for internationally trained physicians wanting to practise on the Island. CBC’s Taylor O’Brien looks into how offering this program could help the province tackle its family doctor shortage.
On top of all that, I struggle with severe ADHD and after years of searching, found a safe, non-habit forming and reliable medication, but I had to stop taking it when I found out I was pregnant because of the potential risks to the developing baby.
My ADHD means I have a difficult time regulating emotions and processing problems or dealing with the unexpected. Pregnant with no doctor and no medication to help control my racing mind, my mental health declined rapidly while I waited for my first appointment.
My husband has been my yellow light — slowing me down, helping me keep track of the important appointments and keeping the kids busy when I need a minute. I don’t know how I would have gotten by without him, but he has a full-time job and works nights so we couldn’t have maintained this setup for long without proper medication and therapy for me.
A few weeks later, I got my first appointment with a family doctor thanks to the patient registry. That first appointment was a blur — we checked the heartbeat, did some routine tests and I was sent for blood work. My blood pressure was a worry but we started monitoring immediately from home.
I’ve had three healthy boys but have not always had easy pregnancies.
We nearly lost our second boy at 20 weeks due issues with the placenta. He was born at 36 weeks, after several weeks of bed rest. We spent seven days in the NICU while he was treated for jaundice and some other preterm issues. Our third son was another difficult pregnancy and an even more difficult birth.
I was afraid this last pregnancy would be difficult, too.
Between that first appointment and the second scheduled for four weeks later, my blood pressure steadily got worse. I was without ADHD medication and despite lining up to try and see a doctor at a walk-in clinic, I never managed to get a slot.
By the time my second appointment rolled around, I was an emotional wreck and physically declining as well. I spent the majority of the appointment crying.
The doctor classified me as high risk for pre-eclampsia, prescribed medication for high blood pressure as well as a new ADHD medication to try, and referred me to an OB who I was told had more experience with high-risk pregnancies.
I was relieved to be assigned the same OB I saw during my last pregnancy. He got me through that just fine, and I feel reassured to have someone familiar to see me through this pregnancy, too.
Without a family doctor, it took longer to access care and the process was tricker to navigate than my previous pregnancies. While the situation is far from ideal, the medical professionals I’ve seen have done their jobs well and as quickly as they can given the state of the medical system on P.E.I.
I trust that I’m in good hands for the remainder of this pregnancy, but now my worry turns to life after our baby girl arrives in July, when we go back to being without regular medical care, back to the struggle maintaining my ADHD and medications without a doctor — and now, with four little people who rely on me.
A huge swath of northern Ontario between Timmins and Thunder Bay has almost no one trained in obstetrics, forcing women to relocate for the final weeks of pregnancy. CBC’s Nick Purdon went there to find out what it’s like to navigate the ‘maternity ward desert.’
Are you an Islander with a compelling personal story that can bring understanding or help others? We want to hear from you. Here’s more info on how to pitch to CBC P.E.I.
