A few days ago I read a quote that said “Life is about how you handle Plan B”.
Well… I can’t imagine a more accurate way to describe last week.
It was a gorgeous day last Saturday and I had big plans of shopping for powder blue layette sets and checking out the DockATot at BuyBuy Baby. The day prior I had my routine pre-nantal appointment which included the highly anticipated 1 hour glucose test that I was happy to pass (which was kind of shock because my eating habits have been trash lately).
Upon leaving my appointment that Friday I was reminded I would be back in 2 weeks to have a third trimester ultrasound to check my placenta which was defined as “marginal” weeks prior at my 20 week anatomy scan.
“9 times out of 10 it usually resolves itself. But you need to call me ASAP if you experience any bright red bleeding at any point” were the words my doctor left me with over the next 2 routine visits after the scan. After my 20 week ultrasound I might have googled “placenta previa” maybe once but nonetheless felt it was nothing to prepare for as I like to play the percentages. And 1 in 200 didn’t really “seem” like me.
The day was pretty ordinary. I wasn’t in any pain prior and there was no indication that I would be spending my afternoon in Labor and Delivery. When I saw blood, surprisedly I was super calm. I called my husband into the bathroom explained we needed to gather our daughter’s things as we’d be heading to the hospital and not the mall. I called my doctor’s office, left a message for the on-call nurse who called me back within minutes with “How soon can you make it to Maternity ED?”
Within the next hour I was admitted and placed on both an IV and fetal monitor. An ultrasound was ordered and per the results it wasn’t looking like I was going to be in that 9 out of 10. Though my placenta had not fully covered my cervix it was less than 1 cm away and though there was a slight chance of it still “resolving itself” each week of this final trimester would be a race to prevent pre-term labor which was now a real threat and would have a severe threat on both mine and our son’s life.
With 12 weeks to go to a non-complicated and pretty easy pregnancy, it never dawned on me that there was a possibility of an early delivery and certainly not the thought of our survival being in jeopardy. And as I was given steroid shots to accelerate his lung development, reality set in that we were now “high risk”.
Thankfully the bleeding subsided and baby boy’s fetal activity remained perfect the entire hospital stay. I have the best and most loving support system in the world and attribute our stabilization to that. I was lucky enough to have both my mother and husband by my side the entire time due to the hospital lifting their vistitation policies literally the day prior.
Though my faith reminds that God is the author of our fate I won’t lie and say that this hasn’t wrecked me. The transition from being active to immediate modifed rest has been a challenge. I’ve had to cancel plans of being in attendance of both my sibling graduations and will be homebound all spring. But such a small sacrifice in exchange for both the health and safety of our son and myself. This experience has also made me even more grossly aware of the disparities in black women in high risk pregnancies and in maternal morbidity. According to the Center of Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) “Black women are 3 to 4 more times likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women”. This alarming statistic is a percentage I refuse to be apart of. I am so thankful to be favored with the gift now to advocate for my life, my daughter’s life, and for those who have lost their life. Vigilance is key to survival.
Thank you to all who have reached out to myself and our family during this time. We are encouraged by all the many prayers and warm thoughts.
Please continue to keep us lifted as we continue to our journey to a safe delivery and recovery.