We went to the doctor yesterday and were disappointed to hear that nothing had changed. The doctor kept saying "I can't believe you aren't contracting." He did promise me that he wouldn't let me go past 38 weeks, which gives us some kind of light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. That is two weeks away, so I need to wrap up some loose ends.
On a side note, when the doctor was measuring my belly (47 weeks) he said the same thing everyone else says: "At least it's not eight." I was kind of nasty in response to this remark. Of course it's not eight. I didn't unethically impregnate myself because I have some Angelina Jolie complex and need large numbers of children to fill a void in my sad, media-hungry life.
So...I'm obviously really grumpy, uncomfortable, and ready for this to be over. I've pretty much stopped going out in public because I don't like the attention. We did, however, make it to Lion Country Safari this past weekend so that I could sit in the air conditioned car and watch the animals. We also made it to dinner and a movie because we acknowledge that our days of freedom are limited.