….You’ve got to know you’re going to wind up at the hospital. Here, at least. It seems in CA I could call the nurse hotline with anything at all when I was pregnant and simply get some good advice; here, the few calls I’ve made to doctors or our new nurse hotline have led to doctor’s appointments (Lucia’s cough), the ER (Lucia’s tick), or the labor & delivery floor of the hospital (me, last week). But I suppose it’s different with my pregnancy this time around, since I have this pesky complete placenta previa. A call to my doctor to just get some reassurance about some very, very, very minor spotting on Thursday led to an order to go immediately to the hospital. Of course, Andrew was out of town for work. Fortunately, Mom and Dad had come to help out for a few days. So Dad and I headed to the hospital, where I got an IV with fluids and lots of monitoring and examining and, on the bright side, got to spend a few hours in sublime AC.
Everything was fine, as I knew it was all along. But they don’t mess around with placenta previa. One nurse told me that women with p.p. collect “lots of frequent-flyer miles” at the hospital, showing up again and again, which is not great news. An exam I had there showed the placenta has not moved at all since July 1. I have an ultrasound in two weeks for another check.
Having a complicated pregnancy wasn’t something we’d considered when we decided to get going with baby #2…Let’s hope it swiftly becomes less complicated. And next time I call my doctor, I have to just accept that I’m going to wind up in a car flying up to St. Luke’s-Roosevelt. What doctor—again, at least here in NYC—is going to say “Blood? Nothing to worry about! Have a great day!”? I'm no doctor, but I can't imagine ever saying that.