I met my new OB yesterday. While the process makes me cringe after the simplicity of homebirth and midwives who do all the work from paperwork, blood pressure, and checking labs themselves, it went fine. They handed me a lovely tablet to fill out more personal details than any doc has the right to know… the first tablet didn’t work so I was given another. And then… the tablet tried to tell me about any drug it matched up to my condition. Sorry, but treating nausea right now is a moot point – especially when it includes a warning that “if you think you might be pregnant…” The thing lacked human intelligence.
Then the nurse took me back and proceeded to ask the same questions. So why did I type all these same answers into the tablet in the waiting room?! This is not making the switch from midwife to doc easier. Then the nurse wanted to know my childrens’ birth histories. She entered two kids in and moved on to allergies. Ha! I don’t think she liked me so much when I told her she wasn’t even close to done. The doc called me a “veteran of pregnancy” and spoke to me, amazingly enough, like I’ve done this before.
We heard baby’s heartbeat and made an appointment for four weeks from now. Super exciting stuff.