It began how it does for all of those people applying to university, it all began with research about where you wanted to study for the next three years, I travelled far to view the courses in other places – Plymouth was the furthest that I visited and although it was amazing the cost of living away from home was too much and I could never have afforded it. I started looking at places in London that were closer to me, still a train or two away but doable.
I applied to my chosen five through UCAS, I had written my personal statement which had taken me forever, I didn’t know if it was any good as I didn’t know anyone else applying to do a midwifery course. Waiting to hear back from them was so nerve racking but eventually I would. I would be invited to open days, interviews and would have to do a Maths, English and a few other tests. Some universities would tell you right away if you had failed and that would be the end, you would go home feeling rubbish and wished you’d been more prepared – this happened twice, I’d practised but all the tests were different and it was hard to be sure of everything. Eventually I got to the interview stage, the university was just outside of London and was quite far – I wasn’t sure if I’d really go there – but it was good practice, I was sat in a corridor with eight or nine other prospective students, we sat here for a while – I was the last to be interviewed and by this time I had been sat in the corridor for two hours not daring to move in case I was called. As soon as I left the room I knew I had messed up, I was so nervous due to waiting that I struggled to answer these questions logically and coherently.
The day at the University I am now currently studying worked a lot differently, we went in there was maybe 30-40 people, we did our tests – I stupidly got a paper-cut and ended up getting blood all over the test sheet. We went home, I later received an email to say I’d passed and that could come in for an interview – I was terrified because of how all the others had gone but it was so different. It wasn’t interviews on an individual basis. I was sat in a room with 30-40 people again but this time the atmosphere was more relaxed. We met two of the lectures who gave a run through of how the day would work, the group was split and we were given scenarios and as a group we would come up with what we would do – we were observed working together and then we’d discuss it with the lecturer who would ask the group questions. There were a few people who would just keep talking and make it hard for others to get a word in. I knew that we had to demonstrate our ability and care for these women, I managed to say something in a tiny voice. I thought on the way home that I hadn’t said enough and had very little hope that I would be contacted to say I’d passed again. It was one of my top choices, my parents told me not to worry and that I’d be fine but I was very pessimistic.
A week later I was offered a place, it was the only one I received but that was enough for me, i knew it was what I wanted to do. I was declined by two due to my test results (which they never gave me back so was hard to know what I needed to do to improve), I declined by another after the interview (which I will put down to nerves), I never heard back from one (others who had applied had been declined by them straight off but I was not declined nor accepted) but finally I was offered a place so long as I got the right results. Results were sent off to the University and I was offered a place and in September 2015 I began the ultimate journey.