This is Getting Serious

It's official. I'm a certified, bonafied, card carrying, DORK. But, if you've read this blog much at all, then you already know that.

Yesterday I went to what I thought was my 32 weeks preggo check up. I had written the appointment down, emailed my practice manager, told my coworkers who would have to cover me, and reminded Chad via text during the morning. I had all of my bases covered. Or so I thought.

Apparently, my appointment is actually tomorrow. At what point did I make this discovery? After Chad and I got to the OB office, checked in, and dove in to a deep conversation about Clayton and Emma(yes the new puppy) and their fight(that's entirely different story about waffles and underwear). Their very sweet receptionist Jennifer very politely asked me if I had lost my mind and gently reminded me that my appointment was actually on Thursday.

Do you wanna know the best part? The surgeon that I work for very often coordinates surgeries with my OB/Gyn. They have the same surgery days. It should have dawned on me at some point that my surgeon is in the OR today, so of course Dr. H would be in the OR too. Nope it didn't register.

Earlier in the day I couldn't even remember what the days of the week were to tell my MIL when she would have Clayton in the next few weeks. I must have a serious case of pregnancy brain. Somebody might want to think about an intervention because it's clear to me that I might not even make it home by myself anymore.