Up way too early to head over to the hospital to try this whole induction thing again… it’s hard to get my hopes up since we had such little progress last time, but who knows? Maybe the drugs will drive him out.

Disney On Ice was everything and more than I could have dreamed or imagined. I’ll tell you more about it later, trust me.

If we do go into actual labor, I have a pre-written post that I’ll upload from my cell as there’s no wi-fi at the hospital. Which is fine, you know, since I’ll probably have passed out in the corner of the room if actual labor is happening.

Just keepin’ it real.

Updated to Add: If you’re waiting on an emailed response from me via Starlite (and I know there’s like 40 of you that are — sorry!), it might be a bit. I’ve taken the rest of the week off work in light of the fact there may be a baby. If there isn’t a baby today, I’ll be back at work as soon as I leave the hospital.

Not only am I wearing my favorite pink shirt tonight, I am also having an excellent hair day.

Also: I have told everyone I’ve seen today (including the mailman) that I, AMY BETH BULLARD, AM GOING TO DISNEY ON ICE TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!

Y’all really have no idea how excited I am.

But you know what I thought about this morning in the shower?

I wish y’all could all go with me. We would have our own little MinSoFab section and we could all wear pink!!!

Maybe one day. Until then, I will represent you to the utmost of my ability at tonight’s performance.

It’s my duty.

Nay, my privilege.

I remain,

Your Disney On Ice servant,

Amy Beth

I know I originally told you that we were scheduled for an (attempted) induction this morning, but that has now been rescheduled for tomorrow morning. Yes, I’m serious.

Is anyone else starting to think that we’re nearing the two week overdue stage?

THAT’S CAUSE WE ARE GETTING CLOSER AND CLOSER AS THE DAYS, HOURS, MINUTES AND SECONDS ROLL BY.

I’m sorry. I just needed to get that out.

When Roomie told me about the rescheduling, I was pretty sad not only for my sake (HA!) but for her’s, too (see, that sounds better). But there is quite the silver lining to this rescheduling, if you want to know the truth…

I GET TO GO TO DISNEY ON ICE TONIGHT!!!

Back when we thought Baby would already have long been here, my dad surprised me with tickets to the performance in Knoxville tonight (more on the surprise in another post). I almost fell out of my chair because I LOVE DISNEY ON ICE.

And tonight? Tonight I shall be reunited with all manners of princesses skating their way directly into my heart while surrounded by thousands of 5 year old girls.

Sigh.

And since my dad gave me two tickets, I’ll give y’all one guess about who I’m taking with me. Here’s a hint though: there’s a little blonde girl walking into school with a princess backpack on right now that has no idea that, in a few hours, I’m picking her up, taking her to her favorite restaurant for dinner and then taking her to see the show she’s talked about forever.

I love my life.

A few people have asked me about my opinion on the election, especially who I’m voting for today. I keep my mouth zipped shut about politics, not only because I need to for Starlite’s sake, but also because I like to avoid arguments about politics in general.

What can I say? I’m a lover, not a fighter.

I will say this though: I have been attempting to perfect my Sarah Palin impression for weeks now. Whether you like her or not, you gotta admit that little wink thing she does is cute. And leaving the “g’s” off the ends of her words? My kind of gal.

And that brings me to this confession: during church this past Sunday, I definitely did my Sarah Palin impression DURING the service for Roomie’s enjoyment right there in pew 7.

Before you start typing your email to me, let me just explain something. First of all, church makes me nervous. A lot. I’ve gone to the same church for several years, so I’ve probably gone to at least 200 services there. I can honestly say that there’s only been about 3 times when I have left church without someone walking up to me to talk about Starlite. It is a fairly large church and I try to get in and out, but somehow, they always find me and proceed to tell me about how their niece’s best friend’s cousin’s sister didn’t get enough processed nacho cheese at last week’s program and the just thought I’d like to know, bless my little heart.

So far, I’ve resisted the urge to reply with “Why, I hate to hear that! You can make your donation check towards larger servings of processed nacho cheese out to Starlite Ministries. That’s S-t-a-r-l……”

Don’t get me wrong — I don’t mind talking about Starlite. To be honest, I’m kind of used to being interrupted during dinner out with friends or whatever — it doesn’t bother me. But church is a little different, especially when I feel a lot of eyes staring at me and my pregnant friend every Sunday morning. I’m sure half the people have no idea what our situation is and have come to the conclusion that I’m in an — how shall we say it? — alternative lifestyle relationship.

Thus, church makes me nervous.

I was particularly nervous this past Sunday morning not only because this older man to our left was giving us The Church Stare Of Death (aka Get Thyself To The Altar To Confess Thy Alternative Lifestyle Relationship Sins Immediately) but also because the couple sitting directly in front of us were, um, very affectionate. Which is weird, you know, when you’re in church.

And that’s why I felt the need to start doing my winking Sarah Palin impression to Roomie during points three and four of Sunday morning’s sermon. Apparently I am no Tina Fey however, because Roomie didn’t catch on and just thought that I was doing an exaggerated wink at her every few minutes.

Which come to think of it, may explain why the man to our left was ready to drag me to the altar.

There is no baby yet. And, if you know Roomie in real life, I would suggest not asking if she is just SO sick of being pregnant and just WHEN is she going to have that baby?

Just trust me on that one.

Here’s the deal: the drugs from last week haven’t sent her into labor so it’s unlikely that they’re going to at this point. We’re going to the doctor’s office on Wednesday morning where they will likely send us directly to the hospital to start things. Our doctor has already told us that he doesn’t let women go over one week past their due dates, so there’s no way he’ll let her go any longer.

Of course, there’s always the option that Roomie is making this whole pregnancy thing up and there’s really no baby in there at all. You be the judge.

Our weekend was pretty uneventful, at least compared to the idea of having a baby. When I got home from work on Friday night, there were no sounds coming from the Pregnancy Cave (aka her bedroom) so I decided to take a little nap.

Basically, I slept through Halloween. All of it. I know.

The next morning, there were still no signs of life coming out of the Cave, so I timidly ventured inside. There she lay in bed, still very pregnant. And so, I did what any of you would do: I told her to be ready at noon and walked out of the room.

I quickly came up with a plan that involved Cracker Barrel, because what good plan doesn’t include The Restaurant of All Restaurants? We then went to Target to pick up some things for Allie’s Starlite shower (more on this later), but somehow got sidetracked in the Halloween candy aisle. There were large 50% off signs everywhere and we felt it was our duty to dig through the pile to see if there were any Reese Cups left.

There were.

But there aren’t any left at our local Target in case you were wondering.

Interestingly, the Mint Three Musketeers are all gone as well.

And I have no idea who could have bought all of them.

Certainly not a 10 month pregnant woman and her enabling friend.

Certainly not.

(Just kidding. We only bought a bag.)

(Okay, two bags.)

(Some of which we gave away yesterday.)

(Which totally makes it okay.)

(Right?)

Sweet November,

I’d like to start out by saying how angry I am at your brother, that little teaser named October.  Listen, I know you’re not your brother’s keeper, but really? Are you aware that he didn’t deliver the goods this month?  We were hoping for a treat from him and instead he played an awful little trick on us.

I’m not too upset though, because if given no other choice, I’m glad it will be you bringing our bundle to the door even the package is late.  Is there any way you could send me a text to let me know when you’re planning on arriving?  I’ve got tickets to Disney On Ice and you know how I feel about princesses on ice skates.  I’m not sure I could handle the excitement of that and a trip to the hospital on the same day.

If you have to choose, though, I’ll take the baby.  He’s got nothing on all those princesses.

November, I don’t think I’ve told you this before but did you know that you hold my favorite holiday of the year in your 30 days?  And it isn’t because it involves turkey, because I think we both know I’m not a fan of it.

It’s because everyone gets together, with no gifts or greed needed.  Just families driving to meet each other, to have meals together, to love each other a little more, a little better than before.  You’ll take me to my mother’s house where she’ll pull that baby right out of Roomie’s arms and into her own before we even get through the front door.  You’ll drive me to my dad’s house where he’ll pretend to have no idea what to do with a baby in the house but, a few hours later, we’ll find him hunched over the car seat, making sure it’s perfectly situated before we leave for the drive home. You’ll give my grandmothers something to laugh about when we leave, the idea that two girls can properly take care of a baby by themselves.

You’ll give me something to look forward to as well, the day when I’ll eventually show up on their doorsteps with a baby of my own, a little bit of their DNA wrapped up in a soft blanket.

You’re bringing work with you; don’t try to hide it — I already know.  Hundreds of gifts, all for girls of different ages, colors and faces, needing to be bought and wrapped.  Your 30 days will never have seemed so short and yet so long at the same time as we check and recheck to make sure we bought enough lip gloss kits.

And as for what you’re doing in my heart already, on this first day of your arrival?

Well, I think you’ll earn your name this month, sweet November.

amy beth

There are no signs of labor.

I’m thankful it’s Halloween since I’m likely going to have to dress up tonight as an obstetrician and take matters into my own hands (literally).

Also: if you are a trick or treater planning to show up on our doorstep tonight, it is very likely that a rather pregnant woman is going to open the door, show you her belly and toss some birth control into your little plastic pumpkin.

And then, she’s probably going to take your candy, especially the Reese Cups.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

After 4.5 hours of a little drug called Pitocin, we have very little to show for it.  In fact, so little that we’ve been discharged and sent home with instructions to watch for nature to take her course.

I’m not familiar with nature — we’ve never met — but I’m going to track down her number and give her a little call to see if we can speed things along.  I think it’s in all of our best interests, especially those of us within arm’s distance of our patient.

There have been a couple of bright moments over the last 24 hours though:

1. Ryan and Allie showed up on our doorstep with a 3 lb. bag of ice from Sonic for Roomie to use since hospital ice can’t come close to comparing to the goodness that is Sonic ice.  If that wasn’t enough, Ryan went on to inform us that he had another full bag of ice waiting in his freezer as well as a small cooler that he purchased to bring that bag of ice to the hospital when we got closer to the delivery.

Because there’s nothing like bringing a cooler into the Labor and Delivery ward.

“No, really, nurse — it’s just ice!  I swear!”

We are classy down here in Tennessee, y’all.

2. Cate, my cousin who is absolutely hilarious, dropped by for a quick visit.  I stepped out into the hallway with her while they were giving Roomie an exam.  Not wanting to miss anything happening in the room, Cate pressed the side of her face up to the door and said “Luckily I have ears like a fox!”

Lucky, indeed.

It’s getting close to midnight here and the house is quiet.  We’re both in bed, but you better believe we’re not asleep.

She’s on one of her independent streaks tonight, sternly informing me earlier that she will be driving herself to the hospital tomorrow morning and that I may sleep in and join her whenever because, after all, there’s no reason for this to interrupt my daily life.

It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of, and I informed her of that before going to check my hospital bag one last time.

Across the hall, there’s a girl sleeping in my bed.  After all, it wasn’t like she, at six months pregnant, could load up her furniture and bring it with her.  And so, the night before she arrived, I told my cousins — who I bribed into helping me with $20 and the threat of me telling my grandmother they didn’t offer to help — to put my bed in her room.  And, the dresser, too.  The nightstand?  You really have to ask, boys?

And so I slept on the couch that night before she came, because somehow when my bed went into her empty room, it became her bed.  I couldn’t sleep in it anymore; it belonged to her.

I took the smaller room, naturally.  And, when I pulled out the measuring tape the next morning, I quickly discovered that the only bed that would fit in my new room would have to be a twin one.

Off to the furniture store I went, feeling like I was going back to my dorm days of sleeping all bunched up in my twinie.  I found a bed and a dresser; no room for a nightstand in this room.  I bought it and had it delivered that afternoon.  After all, I needed a place to sleep.

And every night since then, I’ve crawled into that twin bed as if I’m a bright-eyed freshman college girl with her pictures from home taped to the wall.  I think to myself, “Really, this isn’t too bad.”  And really, it wasn’t that bad– until Snuggles and Cuddles learned how to catapult themselves from the chair right onto the bed.

Three’s a crowd, especially in a twin bed.

I think about this bed a lot, about it’s significance.  I didn’t plan on getting a new bed until I was married; my old furniture was fine.  But here I lay, at this very moment, in a twin bed with two puppies fast asleep at the foot of it, the part where my own feet should be if they would just stop taking up all the room.

Three may be a crowd in my twin bed tonight, but in a matter of hours or days, we’ll walk through the front door with a sleeping bundle in blue and, without ever knowing it, Baby will make our own little family complete.

And three won’t be a crowd at all.

I had a lot of plans for tonight involving dinner with friends, meeting with my accountability group and maybe even catching up on the 127 emails currently residing in my inbox.

But one little doctor’s appointment complete with exam and an unexpected sonogram this morning changed all that within a matter of moments.

Instead I’ll be making sure the car seat is properly installed, the hospital bag in the car and Roomie is resting soundly.

‘Cause tomorrow morning? WE’RE BEING INDUCED!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Just so you know, the doctor told us there is a high chance that the first round of drugs won’t cause Roomie to go into labor and that we could be waiting several days before Baby makes his appearance. When we’re definitely in labor and seeing something happen, I’ll put up something to let you know that there’s actual labor happening!)

(Also: I am very, very excited.)

(And still trying to decide how to fix my hair for The Morning ‘O Induction.)

(I’m leaning towards curly and bouncy.)

(Don’t worry: I’ll keep you informed on the baby. And, obvs, my hair.)