This morning I went to my registration appointment with about eight other ladies. Surprisingly I didn't feel out of place with the other pregnant women, but I did feel old at the ripe old age of 33. The nurse gave us a brief run down on what we can expect and then inundated us with books/planners/magazines (see below).
We then were able to schedule the typical eight week appointment where a head to toe physical is done, and we are poked and prodded just a little bit more. The nurse was super sweet and agreed to take care of my extra ultrasounds in the clinic on their little machine. I'm not sure what little entails, but I just want to see a heartbeat and make sure there is only one bun in the oven. We're going on Thursday, and what's even better is that hubby does get to come! Whoot!
The horrible part of this morning was that after I scheduled my appointment, I had to go downstairs for my urine sample and blood work. Of course, I was feeling a bit nauseous by this time and then had to go have the vampires suck my blood. I must have turned green as the lab girl asked me if I was okay at least four times. Before I could actually drive, I had to sit in my car, drink some water and let the cold sweat die down. Happily hubby surprised me by showing up at the shop I had to stop at to pick him up some uniform junk so we could have lunch together. A sprite and two chicken tacos later, I was feeling more like a normal person.
Now, only two more days to wait. Yay!